Queens

By Donna Hilbert

I loved the flat sassy
bodies of my paper dolls:
movie queens,
hands on hips,
lips in a frozen pout,
glamour pusses
in tab-on fur capes.
More, I loved cardboard
Dale Evans,
Queen of the Cowgirls,
in her fringed suede jacket
and high-strutting boots.
Days, she rode Buttermilk
roping outlaws with Roy.
At sundown,
when she clicked her spurs,
buttermilk biscuits popped
from her oven. She sopped
them in syrup,
fed them to Roy.
Dale never got sticky,
never dropped a crumb,
never wore an apron,
was never jealous of Trigger
who shared their bed
whinnying and snorting
till sun up.

From Transforming Matter, PEARL Editions, 2000.