Ariel

Every day
I put on my nude body stocking,
red wig,
and clam shell bra
to sing happy birthday
to a child whose name I do not know
at the freshly-carpeted indoor playground
on the second floor of the strip mall
above the photo copy place
and across from the Persian Social Club
is another day I wonder
if my mom was right
and I’m really not cut out
for life in Los Angeles.

—Dallas Clayton