Split, a poem for an April night [by Jennifer Michael Hecht]

Dear Bleaders,

I like the idea that if I post this now I will have posted on Wednesday. I've got nine minutes.  So here's a poem, first published at The New Republic last year.

Also, I've been going on about the Pantoum over at Dear Fonzie.  Pantoum! and  More Pantoum!

More soon, keep breathing,

Love,

Jennifer

Split

We speak of rebellion when the kid

is a hellion and the folks are as mild

as a spoon. 

Likewise Republicans

born of freethinking lesbians

 seem like reactors, turncoats

on how they were raised. 

Let me offer another

concatenation

of this explanation.  Think of your mother

as one discreet corner

of a person with a multiple

mental disorder. 

You’re one of the others.  One that split off.

 

Not a turncoat then, but the expression

of what was suppressed.  The same woman,

your mother, who wants to help others,

also likes life as a racket

where the best finagler wins. 

 

For reasons we do not fully assemble

she can not voice this redder side

of her nature and the voicing of it,

that is you.

You are not teaching the former

generation.

Their frenzied distaste in certain directions

was the cue you used

to decipher the code

of just how you were not

to do as you were being told. 

--Jennifer Michael Hecht

Comments

[Rick Orem]

HAH! Great poem! "As mild/as a spoon" is terrific.

[Laura Orem]

Jennifer - that first comment was from me. I didn't realize my husband was still signed onto my computer. Duh!