My mother’s younger sister,
one of 18,000 “Women of the Mart”
who got to vie for the title
“world’s most beautiful office girl,”
a few thousand of them
like a conveyance of pollinators—
with golden lavalieres
and rouge of crimson
or carmine, a brilliance,
that might have competed
with the sun’s burnt orange,
gliding over a thousand
rectangled windows
to overlook the north bank
of the Chicago River.
Each woman lined up,
moved elegantly
one by one, to her hive
on time, bright, chipper,
the yearly reward,
a handshake from the boss.
At this fortress of proper and pretty,
young women dedicated to the Mart,
no spouse or family to distract
from a lifetime career,
and a free lunch every day,
just as the building itself displayed
a cheeky and exquisite chamfering,
a cutting away to create symmetry
to reduce friction, and provide
a smooth and seamless appearance.
~~~~~
THE MERCHANDISE MART, Chicago 1940s
Jean Cassidy, 2023
