Trappings

~ After Beverly Hills Housewife, David Hockney (UK-USA), 1966

Claire stands poolside, ticks off all that Roger has left her: the slant of light on glass, zebra-striped lines on the chaise, the slope of the oryx’s horns on the wall. Next to the buck, she’s mounted her husband’s stuffed grizzled noggin, pith helmet askew, surveying all that used to be his. Inside, the pup snores and twitches on a plush pale rug, chasing squirrels in his sleep. Astroturf tickles Claire’s toes as she flings her evening wrap over Roger’s swiveling eyes, walks barefoot to the kitchen. She mixes a pitcher of Mai Tais, sets strawberries on ice to chill, listens for the cartoonist to ring the bell. After he’s had his way with her, and she with him, he will sketch a balloon over Roger’s head, ink in a squawk.