This is a poem I wrote when I was at a summer workshop a few years ago. I was listening to this woman's story of how she was abused. Everyone in the workshop was really worried about her well being and we spent a good hour learning all about her life.
Thought maybe I could write a poem like her. This is what I came up with. I showed it to a friend and they thought I was the subject of the poem, but I am not. This is for that woman.
I didn’t want him touching my Rabbit
The reckoning aftermath
You feel like the moment itself
It is real, harrowing, and unbearable
Isolation
It could have started at twelve
Some sort of confrontation
Things die along the way
As they must
This is different
A rotting child
We all have to forgive our parents
You know what you did
Keep telling the story
Or kill yourself
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Having had little luck placing my poems in print publications, I've decided to post my poems here as I write them. I also hope to tell people about poetry and help them find other good poets. This blog is for people like me who just can't get enough of words.
5 comments:
Gil, this is really terrific stuff. Wow. Super powerful. You ok?
Jesus Christ, Gil. What the f?
Yo Gil-duckets, was that the summer-camp jigger you went to for writers who were also into knitting, and during the day you and those old ladies would go to knitting class and at night you did poetry/fiction workshops. Gues it wasn't a complete whack-attack after all. This hustle totes reminds me of the Hassanator. My only suggestion would be to change the Rabbit to an Opossom, it's just more you dog. Catch you on da flip, Wrap it up--in Reynolds
gil:
this is really powerful stuff. For you to be able to take on that woman's voice, that's like, total negative capability (keats).
but what i really want to know is if she's ok, and has she seen this poem? what does she think of it?
There's more than one way to skin a cat. Beleive me i worked in at a reasturant in West Virginia.
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