stockton boulevard

down an uneven stretch of stockton boulevard in summer, south of sacramento, i came across a classy broken one; remarkably postured like a runway girl, walking bubblegum pink stilettos, long tan legs up to daisy dukes, a halter top, don’t stop, the mechanical boyish stroll; summer’s heat tempered by a bottle blue parasol angled off her skinny shoulder blade; urban electric milkmaid conjuring the ghost, to the tomb of¬†some¬†unknown soldier had her for his pinup girl in 1943.