Stilettos in a Rifle Range

She and she

said switch

so swish

he did, having misheard,

heard, he slid into a pair

of, slipped into an, open-

back heels and dress,

they, following suit,

she, his jacket, shirt,

she, his pants, wingtips,

tearing down the set

pieces, flipped the dinner

party, a three-ring

au pair a trois

staging the blank glint

mute smirk,

wine glasses

half raised, lowered

to half-staff,

flagging something

in the airs,

chi chi noses

wrinkled with

the stiff whiff

of a flat mistake

aquiline for Roman

knock-off

defanged the gang:

“It was all a gag,”

they cried, laughed.