Culpabilityby Joyce Kessel |
|
twenty years later the end result is the same & I realize only now probably justified
yet it isn’t just the finality of the decision to slash away at our femininity that haunts my sensibilities and consciousness that gnaws at the scars of my anger for you
but the contrast in the process of the gentle men & gentle women who listen and discuss who share their worries & concerns who weigh the options with us who offer empathy & hope
rather than the callousness of a medical power butcher that declared you old and useless and unnecessary a woman barely salvageable a procedure not a name |
|
Reunionby Perry Nicholas |
|
The sought-after empty beach pushes to the edges of the photo. You are in the foreground, sunburned with near freckles pointed out by your mother, father, husband, proud to be the only ones present who have witnessed you bleached by winter.
The rest is not family, but relatives, different tensions you say, occasional people who take snapshots to freeze you for the next decade. The distraction of comparison keeps the aunts and uncles from bickering.
The identical backdrop captured every time, you whip your highlighted hair back hard, throw your hands up in mock surprise, act natural while the next cousin adjusts the color.
You saw that pose in an old Marilyn photo, Norma Jean, really, the black and white one frozen two decades before DiMaggio. |