Poultry Princess Poetry

I have too many lipsticks and too many shoes

about, oh…once a month or so, I’m stricken with the blues

so I sit down and I sniffle about babies that are grown

and married children that won’t ever come home

and dogs that I  loved and a cat that I tried

and I hold a washcloth to my face to sop the  tears that I’ve cried

and I BOO and I HOO and I BAWL and I KEEN

and I sob about things, dark, deep and unseen

of people I miss and people I won’t

( they know what they did. Do they care? No,  they DON’T)

and so I cry about THAT and their uncaring souls

and I feel the waves of the tears, how they rack,  how they roll

so, I drip and I snot and I snuffle and blow

and I suddenly notice…hey! where’d the tears go?

they are GONE just like that and the burden is lightened

what WAS I so sad about? so fearful? so frightened?

it’s gone, like a snowball that  melts in the rain

I feel lighter and free-er and lesser the pain

oh, thankful for tears that clean and burn

and thankful to God for lessons I’ve learned

and grateful of all the bittersweet things I may  taste

and bemused by things once important that now, seem a waste

of time and of tears and of love and of sleep

they are not worth the trouble it takes to try to keep

so, I’ve  winnowed them out and find true friends that will stick

and I’ve learned that blood really  isn’t THAT thick

and I think I’ll choose water, cool and sweet

to bathe my soul and wash my feet…

then Clint will come home and kiss me and ask “how was your day?”

and I’ll pause, smile, and think..and truthfully say

“I had a “moment” this afternoon… but now I am fine,

I’ll ask about your day as you asked about mine”

he’ll smile and say back “I had a moment, too

but let’s eat supper and watch Gunsmoke and just know I love you”

and that, dear reader, is how our day will end

this Poultry Princess and her Prince, her husband and  friend

Loves Me Like a Rock

Tara came home from school that day and I knew something was wrong right away. She looked sad. Fifth grade is hard, so I asked her vague questions about her day and she shrugged them off. That night, she lay down by me on the bed to watch “Survivor” and little by little she told me about a boy that she sort of liked that told her he liked her and they decided they would be “boyfriend and girlfriend” which in the fifth grade means you sit by each other at lunch.

But, he had changed his mind, this fifth grade Lothario, and instead of telling Tara to her face, he sent a friend to do it. This angered and hurt her very much and she told me so.

  The show was over and Clint came in to lay down on the bed where Tara and I were talking quietly about what had happened. He asked what we were talking about and I gave him the Cliff’s notes version.

  Clint seemed very nonplussed about this and for a moment, didn’t get how hurt Tara was. So I looked at Tara and said this:

  “in the morning, let’s go to the chicken house road and gather up a bunch of big old gravel ROCKS and put them  in your pockets and load up your purse. Then, we pass out all the rocks to your friends and y’all throw them at this stupid boy because of what he did.”

Clint sat up in bed, horrified at the turn of our conversation. Tara just giggled and said “yes! let’s do that!”

 I continued. “then, tomorrow at school, you and your friends gang up on him and give him a big ol’ wedgie in front of the whole school during assembly.”

Tara and I are both giggling at this point.

Clint continues to be horrified. He tries to interject, to stop this stream of violence I am seeming to  approve of. He looks at me sternly…and…a little worried.    

“THEN….all your friends can sit around you at the table and be mean to him ALL day and stick your tongue out and not talk to him and don’t let him sit by you at lunch. But just for one day. But don’t TELL him it’s just for one day.”

Giggle. Snort. Giggle. Guffaw.

Clint sat up and said “THAT’S IT!!! Tara Bottoms, don’t do ANY of those things to that little boy. He doesn’t realize what he did!”

“well…..”said Tara. “he’ll realize it NOW. This’ll learn HIM. How’s he gonna know you can’t act like that unless he’s taught? Right, mom?” giggle. gersnort. hee hee

Clint sat back, astounded. Looks at me.  “woman, I had no idea you were so mean.”

This brings guffaws of laughter from Tara and I both. Tara knows. How Clint missed it, I’m not sure.

Tara looks at Clint and says “would YOU do that to mom? Decide to break up with her and send someone else?”

“of course not. She’d kill me.” comes Clint’s quick reply.

“SEE????” said Tara. “you learned!! That stupid boy will learn now!!”

Clint is giggling with us now, all three of us in our bed. “ok, ok. y’all win. I give up.Throw rocks. Give wedgies. Woman, what ARE you teaching our children?” says Clint.

Tara climbs out of the bed. She is giggling and picturing wedgies and gangs of marauding girls teaching boys how to act. She turns to me and says one word.

“Rocks.”

then she giggles and heads to bed.

And dear reader, our daughter Tara? All five feet and 110 pounds of her? Married to a big bear of a man that wouldn’t hurt her for anything. Our daughter Tara?

 She ROCKS. J