Poetic Responses to Psalms and Scripture
I will not do so again; though twice, I will do so no more.
My mouth wanders like a circus performer town to town hawking the sideshow, sullen dancing girls.
I moan: my children keep growing! No babies left for me to coddle, spoon-feed, bathe.
I hate myself for mentioning my husband’s fat.
When adolescent, I spilled each soft detail of love affairs— her lips, his eyes— and too much of my body,
things I would never want you to know now.
My children rustle in their beds plump as pillows, and somewhere South of here, a hungry mother scoops cornmeal with a piece of chipped cup into the mouth of her listless child.
Dear Friend, help me! I pull my hand up to my face and press my mouth shut. There is so much
I mustn't say.
-- By: Ms. Karen Jessee, OP - - a member of the Dominican Laity, St. Mary Magdelene Group in Raleigh, NC. She writes and teaches, living with her husband and children near Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
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