Posts Tagged ‘play


I Am My Super Self

I’m not a Superman.
I’m not Batman either.
Because I’m not a boy;
My mom says I’m a lady.
Just because I have a cape and
I fly around the room,
Doesn’t mean I’m Superman and I don’t want you to say that.
I’m Kayla and
I’m a girl and
I have a cape and
That’s all.
If I have to be super-anything,
I’m a super-kindergartner.


On Dressing In Red And Purple

Lying still, eyes closed, I feel the soreness in my shoulder.
My lower back is stiff. We’ll have a headache this morning.
Inside my mind and my heart, I don’t feel any older;
Yet last night my body aged twenty years without warning.

I was having fun at two, Twittersations going strong-
Filled with a sense of community and the joy of youth-
Now I’m so dog-tired I’d lie here in bed all day long
If I didn’t have to get out to pee and that’s the truth.

I don’t get how this works but we all know it can’t be fair
That the outside falls apart while the inside stays so young.
One day I’ll squint into the mirror, see some old woman there,
Waggle stiff fingers from my ears and, of course, stick out my ton


Car Wash Poem

Anna said, “Why don’t you act your age? How old are you anyway?”
I am older than the mountains.
I’m as young as yesterday.
I can hear the brown squirrels calling,
“Grab some popcorn. Come, let’s play.”
I’m a caffeinated yarn ball.
I’m a tiger named Sabu.
An Imperial leaking brake fluid-
That’s all the tears I cried for you.
I’m a bootie lost in Mount Tabor.
An infomercial by Ron Popeil.
And you’ll have to take the latex gloves off, Baby,
If you wanna know the way I feel.


Unbeautiful Morning

I have breakfast with her every morning.
I’ve done that for ten years.
I’m the only one that does it.
Now, I’m not complaining.
I’ll be old myself someday,
Probably sooner than I think,
But there comes a time, you know,
Where you work so hard to make somebody happy-
An old person, a baby, anyone really-
You start losing who you are.
That’s where I am now because that’s who I am.
I was over at her house this morning.
Right before I left, she said-
Do you know what she said?
She said to me, “Eggs, eggs, eggs, damn all eggs.
And the chickens can fry in hell.”
So that’s the end of it.
I’m not going back.

But it’s from a play.
It’s from “A Raisin in the Sun”.
She was quoting.

I don’t care.
I won’t go back.
Even Jesus wouldn’t take that kind of abuse.