Betsy Sholl, MAJ Poetry Editor
we cracked Bazooka Bubble Gum
rolled our plaid skirts shorter
& ignored the nuns
who prayed hard for us
we too-fat too-thin
too-pretty
too-plain
we asking-for-it
underground
girls
almost-drunk
with wanting
too cool
to be force-married like girls
in Idaho or India.
no one could out-power
us we thought
not stepfathers
or uncles not shady
trench-coat men.
if we were going under
the knife
of male eyes we’d call
the shots
our bodies
like ponies all leg
& mane
prancing
awkward we knew
everyone loved us
everyone was betting on us
to win.
Henry Moore, The Three Fates
after Telaraña (spider web)four paintings by Ana Teresa Fernández
a woman wearing high heels
hangs sheets four times.
the wet cotton
traps her body her face
four times
invisible.
she spiders
her own tale
like Spider Grandmother
& little Arachne
like the three Fates
spinning.
my own grandmother
& her daughters
wearing sensible shoes
& lipstick
lean over the quilt
they are making.
I want them
to remake the world
with thread
as spider weaves porch corners
& attics.
tangled web
we say for deceit
as though survival is
deception.
the sheets
spill skeins of light
each one a verb—
like quilt or web.
to spider means
to weave. grandmother is both
tell-a-story & make-do. girl
is smile & don’t be caught
woman—speak & don’t
be silenced.
Jeri Theriault’s poetry collections include Radost, my red (Moon Pie Press) and the award-winning In the Museum of Surrender (Encircle Publications). Her poems and reviews have appeared in many journals, and she won the 2019 Maine Literary Award for poetry (short works). She is a Fulbright recipient and her teaching career included six years as the English Department chair at the International School of Prague.
Image at top: Dorrie Rifkin, Bazooka Bubble Gum