Elizabeth P. Glixman

HOMEMAKERS

My eighty year old aunt said to me,
Darling, my homemaker bought all the wrong things
at the supermarket
The lettuce is too full
The apples too hard
The lemons aren't firm
         enough
The jar too large
Nothing is just right
Darling, Did you ever?

I thought I was talking to Goldilocks

Darling,
Who taught her to shop and clean
Did you see the streaks?
If it were me
         I would…….

While my aunt was taking the temperature of things
fatigue placed me into a bed
I was wrapped in sheets
a papoose learning to quiet fear
quietly tucked in tightly
circled hospital cornered sheets
where I did not move more
than a seed in the winter.

A homemaker named Darlene
the mother of two toddlers washed dishes
bought soy milk and lettuce
pumped with
commercial Miracle Grow
from the supermarket
lettuce too big for me to cradle
in my arms at night when sleep
refused to cradle me.

Darlene cleaned my sink as well
as anyone who hated her job
as well as my aunt's homemaker
The streaks Darlene left on the bathroom mirror
were masterpieces
just right not too hot
or too cold to my eyes
pained by the light of the moon

* * *

TO BARBARA W. DIVA

Daily through my window I see a redhead in a wheelchair
speed by on her way to the supermarket
She is a stylish spot of swiftness in a wilting place
where slouched people sit
at bus stops look out windows lean on fences
stand close to others to void their loneliness
She moves fast with the press of a button
She is a bionic woman.
Her wheels are legs and her buttons are whatever
makes the hands do what the mind wants
She wears jewelry she fashioned
crystals strung on silk thread that sparkle like night stars
Her heart is healed from creation
She wants to let people know
not being able to walk does not mean
you are stupid need to be talked to loudly
That you have the sense to not wear stripes and plaids
together when they do not match
And
Can be as creative as a modern day Michelangelo
Paul McCartney
Or the guy who created Facebook

Some people say she meddles
I say she is a blessing
She is affirmative, an advocate
who goes to city council meetings

People often look away
from those who sit in wheelchairs
who can't stand
No one can turn away from Barbara W.
her ancestral Indian spirit and the fire
flowing though her
She stands firmly on her own two feet
when she is sitting down

Elizabeth P. Glixman is a poet, writer, and artist. Her work has appeared in IsReads(an outdoor journal), The November 3rd Club, Grey Sparrow Journal, Meow Poetry Anthology, Journey Poetry Anthology, Eclectica, Frigg and 3 a.m. magazine. Elizabeth's poetry chapbook A White Girl Lynching was published by Pudding House Publications in 2008. Cowboy Writes a Letter & Other Love Poems by Puddinghouse Press in 2010.