"A pedestal is as much a prison as any small, confined space." - Gloria Steinem
Smiling, teeth clenched, the Trump women
pitch tents of hands and purses over their uh, laps
at the debates. "He is not a groper," Ivanka insists,
while Tiffany sidesteps his embrace.
The others don't talk much, muzzled by money
and sway. He'd eat his young if they crossed him.
Even ex-wives know their place, keep their peace,
deposit their checks.
Would that his women carried the scourge
of our ancient mothers who could kill or cure
with menstrual blood, whose rages were feared
as plagues before they were tempted by trinkets,
were buffed and painted, augmented here,
lipo-ed there, made righteous and ripe.
Their pedestals are small, and they teeter
in their Jimmy Choos, cowed by a tyrant
with small hands.
Although she is still an advocate for the Oxford comma, Sarah Russell is attempting to find her bag of metaphors again after a career writing, teaching, and editing academic prose. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Kentucky Review, Red River Review, Misfit Magazine, andShot Glass Journal, among many others. More poetry at SarahRussellPoetry.com.