We played catch
in the front yard
in our bras
in the 90-degree heat.
“They look like bikini tops, what’s the difference?”
And anyway, what could happen?
Two good questions—one posed, and the other volleyed
into the universe of chance
and politics.
A good girl with a glove in a baseball cap and bra
is both dangerous
and in danger.
We knew this somehow
as we threw
the ball silently into each other’s gloves,
with Mona Lisa smiles and glances at the busy street—
daring a man to gawk, a woman to judge,
a car to stop.
—