Resident Artist: Carrie Albert No. 6




Binney + Adonis



Golden butterflies flutter above Binney,

shimmering in sequins and pearls,

like Queen Ozma with gray hair

lacquered in hairspray, red lipstick

and rouge, fingernail claws painted

red, V’s for victory since WWII. Adonis

wraps his arm around her shoulders.

Widowed for decades, she needs

a young god. I pasted his head

over her cousin Sig.

August,1968 is printed on the border.

Her arms look smaller than I remember.

She used to let me flip-flap the loose skin.

During our one month in D.C.

she took me to see giant statues

of Presidents, and a 130 foot long dinosaur.

We trapped crabs in the country

with friends who sipped sweet sherry

while playing canasta; we floated

down the canal in steamy sun.

Our nightly ritual was butter-pecan

ice cream with the Dick Cavett show.

Before bed, she brushed and braided

my long hair. August 1968: Binney stares

at me, behind the lens, trying
to hold onto her.




Copyright © 2015 by Carrie Albert