Two Poems

These poems are meant to sit side by side, or to follow each other. They should be read together.

The Purple Allison

When your mama doesn’t know where her mama came from

It’s only two steps to being descended from

That woman who headlines all the newspapers you don’t read.

You practice your curtsy in the mirror

Waiting for the notice that will surely come some day.

And you need that frilly canopy bed

Because you need to get used to your status as quickly as possible.

And you need the pointy cap with the gauzy fabric, the plastic tiara with the pink gems, the long polyester, crushed velvet gown.

And if you suddenly demand purple everything, in fact demand anything,

It’s only because you’re playing dress up with your identity.

And your mother setting up play dates with your friends’ mothers makes her part

Queen and part secretary and part chauffer.

Every smile is for your subjects; every wink is for the adoring crowds.

And the boys on the playground ought to be lining up for your favor- how dare they run away like you had asked them to play hide-and-go-seek?

You dazzle yourself in the mirror with your own great presence

You make the faces in the mirror that you won’t dare to make later- later when you’re somebody.

And you wrap yourself in the mantle of your own importance.

And you shield yourself from the disbelieving world.

And one day it will be worth the practice.

Remembering Purple

When your daughter regards her stuffed animals as courtiers

And pointedly lifts her pinkie

Every time you sit down for a meal

You smile.

But inside you’re the bear with very little brain

Scratching your head with a paw in the shape of an unformed thought

The story you gently murmur into her ears before she sleeps.

No one else is concerned that your daughter’s best friend is

The mirrored closet.

Your mother-in-law says “let her play” and your husband

Thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

And every time you attempt to find the words to ask

If you’re the last sane person left

You lose your keys in the freezer

So you’re as loony as the rest.

Every day begins with a sigh and a glance at the enchanted mirror.

You can’t see what she sees

But you can see a little girl who wouldn’t put on a pair of pants

If her life depended on it.

She wants skirts that twirl.

And you send her off with purple leggings that are

Highly at odds with the hot pink turtleneck, the green jacket, and the turquoise, twirl skirt

But she’s all tiny teeth

She thinks it’s the most beautiful outfit in the world.

Today she’s decided she will no longer

Eat bologna sandwiches nor peanut butter and jelly

And you’re off to the grocery store to accommodate her latest whim.

Your eyes are numbed by the never-ending rows of canned corn, five pound bags

Of potatoes, ramen noodles, lunchmeat and frozen treats.

And now she wants a Popsicle.

The days when you were as easily satisfied

Have long since passed.

You’d give anything for one long moment of simplicity

But instead you get into the car

Put the key in the ignition and glance into the rearview mirror.

And there she is, her seat belt buckled before you had to ask.

You smile.

You back up out of the parking lot

Where you swear at the driver who cuts you off.

Hopefully she won’t be repeating that.