Rebellions, First & Last Acts

1. The first time I used her words against her.
[Note the rag rug hiding an embarrassed pile.]

2. The second time I was stubborn for my own
mouth & refused what was said to be good.

3. It’s getting easier to ignore the lights out call,
to say I’ll finish this one chapter and race to the next.

4. I procrastinate thank you notes in my fourth,
set a pattern for neglected gratefulness, for guilt.

5. [Pull the camera back.] I bounce my thin fists
on my father’s back to stop an imaginary fight.

6. [Close in, a school restroom mirror.] Waisted
skirts are rolled 6 inches higher. Blue shadow.

6. I camouflage grey with gold, trade in slacks for mid-calf
skirts. Tattoo my eyebrows to match old photos.

 
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Once again, this isn’t in response to a Big Tent Poetry prompt. This one is from Rachel McKibbens: Exercise #47. “Your first eight acts of rebellion. Your eight final acts of rebellion.” “Write a poem in parts/numbers. Imagine this poem as a slide show.”

I’ve caught a cold. It’s late. I’m cutting them in half. Or something. Oy. I can’t go on.