DIY History | Transcribe | Campus Culture | Ain't I A Woman? newspapers, June 1970-July 1971

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Ain't I A Woman? newspapers, June 1970-July 1971

1971-04-30 "Ain't I a Woman?" Page 4

Mother 
of my special friend
Mother of my lover
and her brother
Mother whom I longed
to be daughter of,
when did your face grow so drawn?

Was it being the plain daughter 
Or when your husband died?
And you packed up your home
and children and moved
to Iowa to begin again?
Was it the school saying you
hadn’t provided a normal home?
How did you keep from telling them?

Dead a husband/her father.
Dead your only son/her brother.

Yet sitting there
your face remained
as I remembered it.
Tears coming,
but as no surprise
to its expression.

Then
“Because he was in the Navy,”
the minister said
“The Navy Hymn.”
For those in peril on the sea.

And I cried 
because the Navy Hymn
bound us in a way you never knew 
during the year 
I lived with your daughter 
without your blessing.
Late at night 
it would be played 
by a station going off the air 
accompanied by pictures of the ocean 
and I imagined you watching 
those same waves 
with worry kept well back from your eyes, 
wishing your son 
safe travel on the sea.
So many weeks suffered with you 
in understanding of your Mother-pain 
many letters written 
never sent. 
Because of our difference 
over your daughter

I came to the service for your son 
wanting to be near 
for her same and yours, 
but prepared 
to be received with coolness. 
And when your welcomed me 
with both your hands, 
the quickness of my response 
to bend and touch your cheek with mine, 
surprised me. 
Until I remembered 
how often I’d imagined us greeting in that way. 
How often I’d imagine you accepting me
finally. 

[hand drawings]

cinderella has escaped.
once
she chased a prince
and was caught
in a glass slipper – size 5.
she went from washtub to sauna
in an easy dream of feminine reward.
cinderella got pregnant, 
she got bored,
she was dying and she couldn’t breathe.
her dream was a nightmare
and cinderella cursed
the fairy god-mother
for not telling her the rest of the tale.
(happily-ever-after was the lie.)
and one night
after the prince – now king – 
had taken his pleasure, 
she slipped out
she escaped 
with her child on her back
a rifle on her shoulder
leaving a piece of glass heel
in the throat of the king.

4  Vol. 1, no. 15   Ain't I

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Mother of my special friend Mother of my lover and her brother Mother whom I longed to be daughter of, when did your face grow so drawn? Was it being the plain daughter Or when your husband died? And you packed up your home and children and moved to Iowa to begin again? Was it the school saying you hadn’t provided a normal home? How did you keep from telling them? Dead a husband/her father. Dead your only son/her brother. Yet sitting there your face remained as I remembered it. Tears coming, but as no surprise to its expression. Then “Because he was in the Navy,” the minister said “The Navy Hymn.” For those in peril on the sea. And I cried because the Navy Hymn bound us in a way you never knew during the year I lived with your daughter without your blessing. Late at night it would be played by a station going off the air accompanied by pictures of the ocean and I imagined you watching those same waves with worry kept well back from your eyes, wishing your son safe travel on the sea. So many weeks suffered with you in understanding of your Mother-pain many letters written never sent. Because of our difference over your daughter I came to the service for your son wanting to be near for her same and yours, but prepared to be received with coolness. And when your welcomed me with both your hands, the quickness of my response to bend and touch your cheek with mine, surprised me. Until I remembered how often I’d imagined us greeting in that way. How often I’d imagine you accepting me finally. [hand drawings] cinderella has escaped. once she chased a prince and was caught in a glass slipper – size 5. she went from washtub to sauna in an easy dream of feminine reward. cinderella got pregnant, she got bored, she was dying and she couldn’t breathe. her dream was a nightmare and cinderella cursed the fairy god-mother for not telling her the rest of the tale. (happily-ever-after was the lie.) and one night after the prince – now king – had taken his pleasure, she slipped out she escaped with her child on her back a rifle on her shoulder leaving a piece of glass heel in the throat of the king. 4 Vol. 1, no. 15 Ain't I