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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3684 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Somewhere I Missed My Connection Silvia A. Brandon-Perez Or the plane, boat, or gravy train, somewhere I didn't learn the lessons that my mother tried to teach me about womanhood as queenhood, deserving of manicures, pedicures, and assorted cultured pearls and diamonds. I am tired of the woman as good wife, good helpmate, good mother, good daughter, whore in bed and lady in the living room. I am tired of the expectations. The thin doe runs to my window with her babes, young spindly legs. The spots on the sleek coats will later turn to a regular color, they will grow horns as they become young bucks, for now she races with her sons, eating the leaves outside my window. I am not too tired to watch their ease of running. The kingdom where the doe and her babes run is harsh but not as harsh as that of rules and expectations, ex-husbands and arrears of child support and college children and financial needs, and loneliness and boredom and exhaustion. The voice of my daughter sings in my dreams, she is alone and bored and missing love in Wellesley, she hails me on the messenger whenever I sign on, I do not like this new communication, but I run as the doe runs, always a fresh run. |
