Angel in a Wooden Bra / Page 13 of 20


	the angel of the wooden bra in Venice, each window. every doorway is a shop. hardware next to the glass blowers next to the wine next to the postcards next to the concrete floors of the fish market where swordfish still gasp as they're carved into steaks. at the end of an alley where it deadends into the grand canal and the dock for a traghetti crossing, in a window into an empty shop, a double-E bra carved from hard wood with a tight, high contrast grain draped over a wooden hanger -- the kind that bents backwards to mimic the shape of shoulders. from the bra straps drooped two wooden wings. the garment, the wings, unpainted, unvarnished. plain. as if shrugged off from an exhausted woman sleeping far from her faith.

the angel of the wooden bra