Skinny, tan women of the Hudson—
all ages roast on a little boardwalk
in June. Some have fake boobs
and some have wrinkles.
They all seem to be there alone,
giving one another the right
amount of space. One faces the road,
one lies sunny-side up on a bench.
Another, over-easy on the wood pier.
I’d like to go back and join them,
though I am pale and prefer pants.
– Stephanie Paterik