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.
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.