By Rikki Santer
mothballs don’t suit me
and I probably deserve hell
ostriches plucked bloody and raw
yet if you squint beyond the celluloid
gently I will lift you
onto an aqua cloud
and Fred will evaporate
while you float with me
and Ginger
a swan seduced
spinning like sugar
shimmering across white satin
imagine your cheek
caressed by my tender plumage
I will dip you
into honeyed meringue
I will make you
surrender to divinity
I am the dress that will survive you
About the Author
Rikki Santer’s poetry has appeared in numerous publications including Ms. Magazine, Poetry East, Margie, Hotel Amerika, The American Journal of Poetry, Crab Orchard Review, Grimm, Slipstream and The Main Street Rag. Her work has received many honors including, four Pushcart and three Ohioana Book Award nominations, as well as a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Humanities. Her seventh collection, In Pearl Broth will be published this spring (2019) by Stubborn Mule Press.
