Margot Goldbach

By Raquel Wasserman


How she wished he would come back
my man come back please
The sound of Motown on their stereo
Before she birthed anyone or turned 30
Just the two of them, two 1970’s renegades
She, a writer for the Voice
He, a scientist at CUNY
Dancing in their mustard yellow living room
To Jr Walker’s band
This was Alphabet City, brother
Wine everywhere, beer on the rickety sofa, scotch, bourbon
Couples in the corner
Can we have more to drink?
And her screeching over the record
Out!!  You weirdos!

Yes, she saw now, how she out-scaled Talos
In much the way a grown Alice would leave her mentor
Alice inspired Lewis Carroll’s book
Her photos now a misty black and white
Girls made life easy
And in being chosen by Lewis the girls were someone for a minute or two
Girls in the girly sense
Before he discarded them for their hips and womanhood
Never bitter and never old
Forever an artist’s art
Forever a rose petal dream 

Margot was ethereal too
Writing the river blue prose he could never find and she was paid for
And still Margot crept to Talos’s side at night after a late party
Like a deceitful t-shirted kitten
A Pretty Lady
and enfolded her paper pale arms into Talos’s perfect Greek handsomeness
Her Lewis who would never leave her (even if Talos did). 

Her looks stood somewhere in the glowing hippie vicinity of Carol King
The ache of her croaky voice, her pretty frizzy blonde brown hair
Beautiful hair
But that beak that would never be perfect, but was in its way adorable
And Talos was the perfect knockout:
strong chin, dark hair, lush caterpillar eyebrows
the male mold of handsome. 

Break me, she thought
The two of them so good looking
And she trusted with the trust of a teenager. 

The girls.
He chose them because they were choose-able
Girls all in row, near the garden hedge
A profundum of teenage girls with pigtails and starched dresses to pale rounded kneecap
Their beauty obvious
Every one nice as pie
Lewis’s ingenues 

Fitting Talos would leave her for the raven haired girl that watered their plants
Opening like the orchid for him, and he opened liked the rain.
The ache she felt like no other ache. 

It bit into Margot until she had to close the door.
She wrote one note and posted it by the lock
Goodbye, My Grand Corruptor
You selfish piece of shit
She could not hold back her fury
And wondered why the wicked witch got no words
No nothing
Not next to Snow White or Alice or Lola
Who was always perfectly beautiful
Always, just as they were.

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