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Note to Distant Friends

One of the best Party Girl scenes comes when Parker Posey as Mary hits the club in a black jumpsuit with sequin cap sleeves and elbow-length, baby blue silk gloves. As a jazzy clarinet riffs over house beats, she suspends advising her friend on a couch to yell NATASHA! at a Grace Jones-esque belle on the dance floor rocking a suit the shade of aged Shiraz, and soon she’s up holding poses like an art class model as Natasha vogues up, down, and around her figure. When she’s done the two play-shove before they split, and once Mary gets back to her friend we aren’t shown Natasha again. It isn’t the music, looks, choreo, even the way she says NAH-TAH-SHAAAH that makes it. It’s all of that, and the quickness of it, this high clown aside between a pair that maybe never meets sober or in bright light. There’s still a true kind of love between them, even if they only see each other at night, in chic glimpses, and that’s exactly how I love you.



Ode to the Crop Top

O                         sliced crêpe;

dress                         code break;

half-                                    set sun;

slut                         symbol;

cracked             window; 

short                                    story;

a whole summer                         carnival, shrunk.

How I adore                         your spunk,

your sincere open                         call for air

on my belly                         hair.


The little Target®                         boy

groaning eww                         as I pass

isn’t worth                         any ire.

He’s playing                         with fire,

but his parents                         lit the torch.

To think such small                         cloth

sparks grown brains                         aflame.

Why you in                         a girl’s top,

the man yells                        in DC.

I could have cut him                        one too,

so we’d both                                    feel the breeze.