aayoung
so he took her like an animal
but my father’s ghost wept
so she went to the men
like a good American
good people don’t want to believe
in visionaries good or bad
especially when you have red clay mud
starved stabbed scabbed over and over
on your grandmother’s dress from being raped just like her
from ft. Sumter to Wounded Knee
he’d never seen that color red come out of a living fertility statue
my veil is torn
the dog is dead
the natives have resumed their drumbeat
Do you think
Canadians feel like
they occupy
the spacious attic
of hell?
it was a hot wednesday afternoon
i saw her downtown
this old high school classmate of mine
valedictorian of her class
hanging like a drying dish rag
on the pock-covered arm
of her fourth divorce
they looked like they had just driven in
from a northern shithole township
to taste
of the urban opioid market
oh,
merri smyth
merri smyth
full of
such
promise
please
tell me this
how is it
you are not
an astrophysicist
instead
a
mother of seven
living and dying
on public assistance
i suppose you could say
i’m one of those people
who has seen more than their
fair share of things
you will certainly find
me adept
in a broad range of topics
from culinary techniques
to obscure music
embalming
comic books
addictive substances
and
lesser know shitty diners
of the northeast
some of it owed to college
and my need
to join the rat race too soon
mostly it was my proclivities
my insistence on taking
a master class
in dating old fucks
what an education
you have descended
from indigenous medicine women
and girl scout goddesses
you came into this life
with power that takes growing
into
head held high
with strong female role models
confidence you will cultivate
by surviving pain
rising to challenges
you’re finding out
you’re stronger than you know
by
creating your own peace
owning your joy
making happiness your choice
remembering you have endured
their belittling words
because
they need to feel better than you
because they have nothing to be proud
how sad is that
pity them
waste no time on bitterness
take comfort
people like this are their own reward
you will rise above their words
you will outlive their petty hearts
the world fears all shades of women and girls
who believe in themselves
do not ever give a bad person
the power
to make you feel like
you are less
to make you ashamed of the way you are woven into the fabric of our universe
or that it is anything but
perfectly divine
to be you
the true measure
of a civilized society
are the rumors
told by its ghosts
when life has taught you
all love ends
in pain
it becomes easy
to extinguish every flame
but not him
he’s my trick candle
he burns brighter
the more i try to blow
i have learned
to stop blustering
enjoy the party
and eat
the damned cake
little boy
nine years old, I’d say
leaning on the wall by the
Newberry Medal bookshelf
red Chuck Taylor’s
one foot pulled up
brown hair
tan corduroys ripped at the knee
not-so-white button down shirt
looking like a
tiny Jack
Kerouac
eyes wide
lost in the pages of
A Wrinkle in Time
I smile and think
one day
he’ll be traveling
On the Road