Angry

(I never get angry)

My mother told me ladies do not

express inappropriate emotions.

We sit with carefully turned ankles, closely pressed knees.

Pray for women whose eyes spark and hips move with their words.

(I never get angry)

Always smile, speak as softly as the leaves in Autumn

when they drift from the trees, released

and forgotten. Don’t hear the side remarks

about your weight and shoes

and whereabouts of your father.

(I never get angry)

My best friend declares frowning makes lines

that my shaking hands cannot hope to cover.

She reminds me- my face is already crooked.

So I mimic the motions her mouth makes

when she pretends she’s beautiful.

(I never get angry)

Driving my car I don’t see the street

in front of me, I’m waiting

for the twitching in my hands to fade

the pounding under my skin to ease,

the shrieking behind my ears to silence.

(I never get angry)  

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is very mind-blowing in the way you're conveying immense power while also staying politely between the dotted lines of life. The contrast between what the narrator is feeling on the inside & how the person moves thru the world is the kind of stuff I love in a message . . . life is all about contrasts & juxtapositions & ambivalence. You've managed to SHOW (instead of telling) how this manifests in one person, using a novel approach. Normally, I'm not crazy about repetition in poems, as most of it is done mindlessly for effect. But in your poem, the parenthetical refrain builds powerfully from beginning to end, until we can practically feel the narrator ready to explode with the act she's been playing.