Christine Jordan is a poet and performer who started life as a dancer, training in ballet and tap, and dancing professionally with The Moving Co. a modern dance company in Pasadena from 1973-1978. However, after getting seriously bitten by the poetry bug in 1982, her passion has been staging her poems and stories on a variety of subjects starting in 1996, with motherhood, artisthood and childhood being favorites. Her first full solo show ‘Notes On A Country Childhood’ had a 6 week run in 2013 at The Santa Monica Little Theatre. She has been half of a two gal writing/storytelling team called Story Chicks with Terri MartinLujan since 2014. They have performed in many traditional and non-tradition spaces all over LA and beyond. Riffing on the combined tales of their rural childhoods in the 1950’s and 60’s CE & Terri now have four full-length shows hatched out into the world. Ms Jordan’s strictly solo poetry performance outings also include ‘At Home With the Aliens, tales of cleaning stuff up’ and ‘Model Behavior’ a romp of a show relating her exploits as a runway model way back from 1977 to 1987. All this to prove one can always live to tell the tales!
To My Daughter in Her Pink and Black Polka Dot Prom Dress
Steam, the slip
of the dress. I press
your first prom dress
this morning. Smooth,
it is simply filled
with tiny, black polka dots
stars of black
in a bias-cut
sky of flesh pink.
I am lifting the iron
not to press seams
into this fabric,
but to pull
the lines and creases
from the marshmallow cloth
with that same kind of pressing
(not to be felt too much)
that comes with mothering,
that wielding of heat
not to burn what is fragile.
My reading glasses fog
as this latest photo
develops in the steam emulsion:
a picture of basic
white stars in a pitch-black sky
that you will step into
this night, this dancing
this dark flower at your breast
a bright one at your wrist.
Steam, the slip
of the dress. I press
your first prom dress
this morning. Smooth,
it is simply filled
with tiny, black polka dots
stars of black
in a bias-cut
sky of flesh pink.
I am lifting the iron
not to press seams
into this fabric,
but to pull
the lines and creases
from the marshmallow cloth
with that same kind of pressing
(not to be felt too much)
that comes with mothering,
that wielding of heat
not to burn what is fragile.
My reading glasses fog
as this latest photo
develops in the steam emulsion:
a picture of basic
white stars in a pitch-black sky
that you will step into
this night, this dancing
this dark flower at your breast
a bright one at your wrist.
© 2022
Christine Jordan
Christine Jordan was a Featured Poet at the month 2022 Second Sunday Poetry Series
Christine Jordan was a Featured Poet at the month 2022 Second Sunday Poetry Series