Friday, October 24, 2014

Poem for SPOTTTS Analysis

My Personal Recollections of Not Being Asked to the Prom
I never minded my unpopularity
in those days. Books were friends and poets (dead)
were lovers. Brainy girls were still a rarity,
and boys preferred big bosoms to well read
and saucy wits. I look back now with pity
on the young Me I didn’t pity them.
I didn’t know that I was almost pretty
And might have had a charm for older men.
And my poor mom, who never bought a fluffy
ball gown or showed me how to dress my hair—
she must have wondered where she got this stuffy
daughter. She didn’t say it, but her stare
asked whether genes or nurture were to blame.
(But I got married, Mother, all the same).
--Gail White

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