POETRY

 

Walking the Straight and Narrow


I watch a girl without a wiggle
walk stiffly by.
Other women swivel
back and forth,
but not this girl.
I follow her straight gait
and wonder what happened
to make her practice
such a narrow path

My hips had an atmosphere
forming around their equator
from the time I was 13.
Bad enough not to be born
a ball-playing boy,
instead squeezed out
a robust female
to a thin father.

Baggy shirts
jeans
no lace
no frills
no shorts
no heels
no service
from him.

Breasts could be tucked away,
but hips joined you on either side,
making you a parade.
Puberty sneaks up.
Thighs grow exponentially with desire
to not stand
out.
School
where women and girls
are thrown into a pot
and hipsters rise to the rim.
But I did not want to be on top.
If you don't sashay from the start
your manly walk will look natural and
no one will notice your motherly hips,
including a father
who wanted a boy
and got a girl without a wiggle.