Friday, July 8, 2011

A Walk in Victoria's Secret - Scar

This poem begins with When the mirror sliced my daughter's thigh and the reader (at least this reader) suspects an accident. The poem opens beautifully, like a flower, to describe the flowering layers of blood and glass. The wound heals and leaves a scar, the girl is ashamed and at the pool she tries the hide her scar with a splayed-out hand and then we get a hint of something more sinister in the genesis of this scar with

hurts me the way her puppy's back-end wiggle
signifies a fear of men, and ignites a little narrative
in my mind: some creep with a beer in his hand
batting around a five pound pup, and thinking it's funny.

In the second strophe there are more hints, allusions to N feeling like a pervert for peeking a look at her daughter's scar when she is sleeping, N's stomach bottoming out, and the Almighty/ hung back, masquerading as a dark deity, a complicated god/who would hold a small child hostage and torture her mother./Now it will take a long time to fasten him back where he belongs.

There is just enough here, enough imagery - puppy, flowers, glass, Almighty - husband, father, lover? who turns on woman and child, to intrigue and frighten.

1 comment:

  1. The narrator here has an interesting mixture of anger and vicarious guilt for the horrible things other men have done to women, and children, and puppies. It must be a rough set of emotions to grapple with. Everybody's got their own gender baggage, but I still don't envy him.