In a dress with a black tulip’s sheen la fabulosa Lola enters, late, mounts the stairs to the plywood platform, and begs whoever runs the wobbling spot to turn the lights down
to something flattering. When they halo her with a petal-toned gel, she sets to haranguing, shifting in and out of two languages like gowns or genders to please have a little respect
for the girls, flashing the one entrancing and unavoidable gap in the center of her upper teeth. And when the cellophane drop goes black, a new spot coronas her in a wig
From My Alexandria, by Mark Doty (©1993), reproduced by permission of the author and University of Illinois Press.