David Lehman
She had the ugliest handwriting
and the prettiest green eyes
of any woman at the Museum
of Modern Art. She had
the loveliest legs and the smallest
apartment of any editor
at Vogue. She had the reddest
hair and the worst insomnia
of any actress on the Upper West Side.
She had the best mind and
the nastiest manners of any Swarthmore
graduate in the gym. She had
the meanest father and the leanest
mother and the crudest brother
and the lewdest sister and the most
money and the least compunction
of any divorcee in this room.
She had the sweetest voice.
She had the darkest moods.
