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| DONALD RAWLEY | ||
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| Helen in Waiting Helen's been a bridesmaid five times. She's a big redhead, six feet tall with a frosted lipstick grin, punctuated legs, and a big ass drenched in My Sin. She live high in Malibu with a view, fire warnings weekly, a greenhouse with a hot tub, and collie bitch named Pearl. Sometimes she'll talk about Texas and the sons her father never had, how she finally jumped ship, drove across deserts to see the sea. Other women are Helen's secret fling; she picks the mistresses up at hotels and casinos. After they've been ditched. She'll nurse them back in her hilltop cabin of mimosa and mists, cook for them and drink with them. Helen's got big shoulders. Helen walks and dreams at dusk when the Pacific slowly laps the edge of her horizons, smelling giant sweet peas and wild gardenia, and remembers not to think of pasts, how she was left to sit alone like some giant cow in her field, no one writing back. But every Sunday for church Helen wears lavender silk suits, the sun's best daughter, her hair spun like fire as she makes her way down the road with the top down and the radio on.
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| Malibu Stories © 1991, Black Tie Press. All rights reserved. | ||
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Special Tribute Poetry Jonathan's EndAmerican Beauty White Water Blind Stitch Steaming Chateau Marmont Los Angeles Three AM Mulholland Drive
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