Lana Turner’s Seamstress
They come to me with their wrinkled gowns, fresh from the tour bus,
lacking in sleep and pressed for time.
Lighting nervous cigarettes, sipping the lemon and honey tea I make,
that they swear calms their voices, and their nerves.
I iron their evening gowns, as if every one of them was Lana Turner,
and all eyes were on her.
And, It’s true, I tell them. She was…a swell gal… but every bit
as nervous, as drunk, as worn out, as giddy, as sexy, as smart, as
(whatever adjective you’d care to insert here)
I tell them.
I calm them down while I iron out to perfection every wrinkle of their stage dress.
I reminisce about the days I was Miss Lana Turner’s seamstress.
She, being my favorite of many famous ladies.
I sewed and ironed their dresses, heard their confessions, bolstered their tears.
Knowing there is nothing like a beautiful strong seamed dress
to hold a woman together.
