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More Bubbles Where She Came From

From: Cream City Review
Volume 36, Number 1, Spring/Summer 2012
p. 93 | 10.1353/ccr.2012.0058

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

More Bubbles Where She Came From

At the saloon, she wears crushed coal, thick glaze of glycerin, she sucks mints & glowsticks—all that

cock. She marvels how unlike milk it tastes, how little it takes to make life—not love

or like, not even a quarter ounce. Men stare at her small wings, her blue-tint skin, but when Madonna plays,

beauty ribbons around her. She loves Madonna so much, and margarita salt, and star-lit alleys.

She loves money, too. When your folks fear their bluish girl and your brother humps everything,

money is more than green notes—it’s escape. After work, she walks the long way, a geometry

of gold squares on each building, lit and silent stories. She imagines airy suites and flutes of champagne, a lover

in each time zone. She could fly home but craves concrete’s hard kiss, its little clicks on her heel.

The tub’s moldy musk perfumes her bathroom. She soaps her spidery skin, remembers the rainbow

sheen that broke at a finger’s flicker. [End Page 93]

Claudia Cortese

Claudia Cortese’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Best New Poets 2011, Crazyhorse, Rattle, DIAGRAM, and Third Coast, among others. She lives and teaches in New Jersey, where she is completing a book of poetry that explores trauma, myth, fairy tales, and girlhood.