When a Man is Like Don Draper

“That poor girl. She doesn’t know that loving you is the worst way to get to you.” – Betty Francis



Anna or Peggy seem like the best options. There is no longing.

It’s easier to be his secret keeper—dance to Frank Sinatra

into the early morning while the streets are busy below,

or to sit on the floor of a bungalow and let him untangle

all the lies and loves he keeps in a cigarette dispenser, a briefcase,

the dashboard of his Cadillac Coupe DeVille.

It’s obvious, no one wants to be Betty or Megan,

though both present as #couplegoals from the outside.

A New Years Eve Kiss covered in confetti—

a black and silver mini dress when singing and teasing

him in front of his friends. He won’t appreciate this. 

Disappointment will become a permanent address—

no matter how it’s decorated: the suburbs with children 

and a maid, hosting dinner parties; a penthouse 

in the city where even the Beef Bourguignon is ruined,

and the neighbor from downstairs is waiting for you

to leave so she can slip into his bed with her black lingerie. 

You will find sanity in being Rachel or Faye—glamorous

in feather hats, a midday fantasy in a grey fur coat. 

One who never ran away with Don when reality

became the boogeyman under his bed. Women 

who knew he only liked the beginning of things

and that Don Draper is the eternal facade.



Marisa Silva-Dunbar’s work has been published in Sledgehammer Lit, Better Than Starbucks Magazine, Chantrelle’s Notebook and Pink Plastic House. Marisa is the founder and EIC of Neon Mariposa Magazine. She has work forthcoming in the Eyes Wide Shut anthology “Denmark,”  as well as the Wicker Man anthology, “Wickerpedia.” You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @thesweetmaris. You can find more of her work at www.marisasilvadunbar.com

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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