Angeline Schellenberg
IT'S A BOY
Complete this sentence: As long as it's healthy…
By the time your startle reflex has kicked in
and he's tested his grasp of your finger
(melting your belly from the outside)
you'll have counted his toes one to ten, twice,
as if there's something to do with missing toes
searched his frosted eyes, scried his tears
pressed his belly, the nurse for assurance
that unlike your brothers
he will someday write his name, hug you back
As you pour yourself into him at 3 am
stare out the glazed window,
rock rhythmically in the dark
* * *
PAIN THRESHOLD
I knew the moment I caught you strumming
the rusted vent cover, making musical notes
sharp enough to slice baby fingers to shreds,
your ear tuned only to the harp of your own making,
my neck tingling with the pain you could not feel.
Florid thrums fill the gaps in red. Resonate.
* * *
STIGMA
1: A point A mark A sign A scar
a baby is born
wordless, without
wrinkle, no trace
of her future written
across her face
she's named, packaged
in pink, labelled
& shipped off to preschool:
crybaby
tomboy
twit
poster child for Ritalin
she grows
tired of shrinking
to fit, smeared reflections, lying
crumpled before mirrors, masked
charades, make the grade, big fat broken
records
check the tag – she's not it, buy
into the Gap, Easy-
bake cupcake, boys jabbing forks
to see if she's ready
(Origin: stig: to stick or prick, from which we get our sting)
she wanders
through thorny dates,
rocky fields, nods & glares,
advancing by degrees, seeking
seclusion in books, wounds
concealed between the pages
(See also: the mark of Cain)
2: The sticky part of a flower
the girls at school
collect praise like the bee's knees,
scratch & sniff, lick & stick
filaments held together by the same style
banana clips, skipping ropes,
by week two they split:
alcoholic's daughter
teacher's pet
bed-wetter
slut
(from Greek: sigma & tau – unique characters fused into symbol)
3. A brand seared/carved into slaves
permanently pressed
somewhere between dark & delicate,
weary of exes & ohs,
ear piercing jeers, tattooed
hearts crossed by flames, power
skirt slit matches wrist
that woman's openhanded scars
sink in skin, itch and burn,
lips lined in red
reveal nothing
Plural: stigmata. (See: the wounds of Christ)
* * *
DRUG TRIAL
call to the stand
the mother of autism
dis-order is in the court
evidence:
the holes in her appearance,
her son's flight from every scene,
his statements repeated
for the record
he did
exhibit a
range of delayed developments,
unusual behaviours
on the days and nights
in question
recall the forceps, the vaccines, her obvious admission of guilt
she will plead for a series of trials but
settle for a body of
dis-regulations:
Strattera resolves hyperactivity causes depression,
Prozac addresses depression releases aggressiveness,
Risperdal arrests aggression adds weight
to our argument
her burden is proof
you will judge
for yourself how well she's doing
Winnipeg poet Angeline Schellenberg writes about her experiences with two brothers who have Fragile X and
a son and daughter with autism and ADHD. She has a Manitoba Arts Council grant to write her first collection about mothering
children with autism. She's apprenticed under Don McKay at the 2013 Sage Hill Poetry Colloquium and Meira Cook in the 2012
Manitoba Writers' Guild mentorship program. Angeline's poems have appeared in Rhubarb, CV2, Geez, the
Society, Prairie Fire and the Beautiful Women Anthology, and are forthcoming in The New
Quarterly. She blogs at new-ange.blogspot.com.
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