Jeanette Beal

UNTITLED INSOMNIA

A curtain drawn shut
against shadows not there
not hanging in the balance
less tired now -
Frost paining windows usually open
while unruly bed clothes cling to thin air
and half your body is curled
arms flattened to pillows skewed
there's a carpet crawling across the floorboards
and the memory forming in your gut
this is what it must mean
breathing in the reality of a paler moon
and a slightly brighter sky
or what feels like less mystery
than an unveiling of a painting
in a pristine gallery
you didn't think it would be this easy
to sleep so soundly
on an otherwise reckless night.

* * *

AFTERSHOCKS

"Joy has its' own justice
and my dreams are languid and lawless,
but everything bows to beauty
when it is fierce and flawless..."
- Ani DiFranco

She talks about a clean break
from reality or the mundane
the lulls between the storms are shorter now
and we're all bracing for the next wave
before our feet leave the ground
and glass shatters tree limb
in an opposites attract rehearsal
of the inevitable between what was
and what could be if given something
a chance at the familiar
or hidden dream.

Cryptic memories and that pounding
between ears separated
by years of forgetting
and eyes that no longer reflect
the color of his shirt
on hairy chest
once less smooth but not as dark
as it is in age's mirror.

She doesn't know what she's saying
as much as what she's feeling
sometimes it's all she can bear
to breathe in the wave of ammonia
and continue scrubbing
hands upon knees
all too similar to her mother
in stained sweat pants and baggy t-shirt
with frizzy hair on a Saturday morning.

Stooping to pick up broken glass now
is her only concern,
and pushing back strands of hair not hers
on a forehead dripping with sweat
from her own slight movements
not ordered, not required this time -
no voices shouting orders
but instead the constant guilt in her gut
that slicing tremor not allowing for mistake
and punishment's harsh gaze when fouled.

Not a child, still not a daughter -
she's history's reprieve from responsibility,
never mentioning.

Jeanette (etana) Beal is an unrepentantly fat, blind, first-generation American, poor, hyper-educated, queer cyborg and not unpleased about it. Ze is co-editor and a contributor to Breath & Shadow, an online disability publication and writes for Fatshionista!, a fat/fashion/culture blog.