Poem of the Week

Dynasty

Jane Yeh

I sit in my metalwork chair, serious as eyeliner.

Then lean forward in my cream beret.

The champagne flute of my intentions silently fizzes.

My updo lurks on my head like a shady observation.

Whilst your ashy bob bobs repugnantly in the open.

The Aubusson of the evening weaves into view.

I purse my frosted lips, poised as a salad.

Prior to unveiling my ruse.

My heart-shaped earrings glint sarcastically at your reaction.

Whilst your shoulder pads tremble like an overripe Brie.

The Jacuzzi of my faux concern frothily bubbles.

I toss an oversized camel scarf cashmerely over my shoulder.

Then offer to help, smooth as fondue.

Your charmless bracelets rattle in my vicinity, gratefully.

Until the truth dawns on you like a banana flambéed.

Say sayonara to this ski lodge, darling.

My buttery leather clutch and I own this shack now.

I smile at you, thin as an after-dinner mint.

As the Taittinger of my deception merrily overflows.

The Yale Review · “Dynasty” by Jane Yeh

How did this poem begin for you?

I never watched Dynasty in my childhood (I was a Dallas girl), but it was pretty inescapable in popular culture back then (when the big three networks dominated commercial TV). Last year, I happened to see an old still on social media of Joan Collins as Alexis Carrington Colby, the show’s villainess, which inspired this poem. I’ve been writing poems about cheesy 1980s TV shows off and on for a long time now, but this was the first one that involved eighties fashion as imagery; the camp quality of Alexis’s supposed sophistication was appealing to me. To be honest, it feels pretty trivial to be writing about a fictional TV character, given the current situation in our country, but if it can bring someone a brief moment of levity, I hope that’s okay.

Jane Yeh is the author of three poetry collections: Discipline, The Ninjas, and Marabou. She was born in the U.S. and lives in London.