I’ve been feeling kind of frantic and hemmed in lately, and that’s just in my personal life, that’s not even considering the hellscape of the world we’re currently living in. I also feel super messy, like I’m dropping the ball sort of everywhere, at work, with money, taking care of basic tasks. I have to buy a car and know nothing about doing that and truly do not have time to research it. There is nothing in the house aside from some figs, apples, pears, and an assortment of condiments. Thank god Eloise gets fed at daycare during the week. I often wonder if this sloppiness is shared by mother everywhere or if this is particular to me and my single motherness. Or is this sloppiness something we all share, whether we are parents or not? Hmm.
And now, for the poems, all of which are in various stages of done-ness. Comments welcome!
#1
How she does it
For years, I’ve been hearing about these
hidden reserves of strength
women supposedly have
which I feel like people talk about
when someone is doing things they would never want to do.
She’s so strong, they say,
I don’t know how she does it.
Well, I know how.
Give a person no choice
and it will happen.
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