To be a dog, or a grown up. Or to be
a penguin. Aiden, who is now five,
has this power. To dive in to
an imagining so real, he becomes
the thing. He is angry at his mother
when he is forced to wear underpants.
Penguins don't wear underpants, Mama.
I told you, I am a penguin today.
He is your nephew, your heart, your moon.
And you are not five or fifteen. You are
not even twenty five, not by miles.
Now, you must dive in.
To be forty one.
To be a woman, brown woman in
this land uncertain about its new skin.
Brown woman in this world
the old man is unprepared to see.
What is the power that you hold
in this new brown world?
Is it your sex? Is it your skin?
Imagine a Sunday at its best. All
sunshine and blossoms. Imagine
all voices raised, all sights on high.
Now imagine the pulsing. Your heart.
Your heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment