Why I Am Not a Fashionista

after Frank O’Hara

First day after Christmas break
excused from Latin class
I pass the trophy cases
as morning announcements
crackle through the old PA
hear my best friend’s name
and stop

picture her waving as she
passed along these checkered floors
just two weeks ago
in her favorite Jimmy’Z skirt and top
matching mint-green eyeshadow
Barbie pink lipstick and polish
for the hallway catwalk
always measuring herself
against perfection—
that Seventeen-cover-kind—
no waist, hips, thighs
just breasts (lots of them)
and clear, clear skin
so she was thrilled
with those pills in autumn
ran up to me in the lunch line
after the appointment
beaming her I’ve-finally-been-
to-the-dermatologist smile
swallowed each prescription
like the ones before

and now we’re back
to school and sports news
the latest tryouts
and I continue
past the main office
through the eerily empty halls
where we once passed notes
on my way to empty out her locker—
her moment of silence over
mine, just beginning.

Jill Michelle teaches at Valencia College in Orlando, Florida. Her latest poems appear/are forthcoming in DMQ Review, untethered magazine, Please See Me, Coffee People and Drunk Monkeys. Recent anthology credits include The Book of Bad Betties (Bad Betty Press, UK) and Words from the Brink (Arachne Press Limited, UK).

To check out more of her work, visit byjillmichelle.com.