[untitled]
the
kneeling
is
not
like prayer.
where
do you
put
your
hands.
placed
wrong
they get
hit.
the
butt
is
the best
place.
depending
though.
sometimes
the
back
if the back
the
arms
and so
shoulders
too.
Best not to move.
– –
after
a long shirt to cover
not a jacket
too much
you know not to say
welts are redpinkwhite
and
puffy
shaped like a belt wide
telephone cord thin
electrical cord grooved
raised and soft
– – –
discipline
does one ever
remember what earned it?
surely disobedient sneaky defiant naughty lying
if the impetus is gone? Disobedientsneakingdefiantnaughtytalkingbacklying
does it work?
leaving just the sting and sound
has it worked
the body
into straits?
– – –
– –
after
Snotty gulping despair
Sipping air
Crying wailing rage
hic cuh huH Hhi cc Uh hi c cuHup
sorry self pity
– –
Training
“Here put on these.”
She is moving so fast
Pulling panties out of the drawer
And handing them over
“Put these on. Hurry up.”
“Why?”
“Just put em on. Then put your pants back on. Hurry up.”
I layer two pairs of underwear
“Hurry.”
on top of the ones I already have on.
I begin to get the picture
and wonder if I’ll need more.
“Only 3?”
“shhhhh”
My outer layer is the whitish gray
with little yellow flowers green leaves
a kinda pocked thin cotton with a square weave.
The elastic petal edge reaches above the other pairs.
This won’t work.
We take the position…
But it was like my butt had been numbed!!
Protection! Forever!
I wince and yelp.
Welts only on my thighs.
Only three pairs of draw’ls…
Well whadaya know?
– – –
– – –
Training
Badass lyinass
Sneaky cussing kids
This one
gon’ cut pinch hit pull
That one’s hair
Who scratched!
That one gon’ tear up my house
break stuff
and hide it
This one gon’ swipe things from the store and hide it
Gon’ write nasty notes
And hide it
gon’ cut up talk back makes faces
Talk back to the teacher
Just not do what they’re told
Embarrass me offend
do what ever the hell they want
And expect no consequence
Like there’s not any rules
dare me
why does this room look like this
gotdammit
“Go get a belt.”
“That’s not a belt. That’s a ribbon.”
You/
had/
better/ not/ ever/ ////
– –
– – –
just won’t catch me.
not gonna catch me
next time.
– – –
— –
Training
on our knees bent over the side of the dressed sofabed She leaves
i turn my head
whisper
rushed
“act like it hurts”
a look begging confused
terror
poor thing
She must be no older than 6
I’m not sure I can trust her
She was then what you would call a narc…
the next millisecond will tell
She comes back
(perhaps the confusion helped)
with a belt
we can expect three licks each
one lick for her.
half way into the first one –
hollers!
Hops!
TEARS!
Oh!
she alternates
one lick for me
my own quiet …
one for her
!HOLLERS! HOPS! AND TEARS!
Good God.
i didn’t know she had it in her.
good thing this is gonna be short.
one for me.
… ows pale by comparison.
I’ve always been an economical actress.
i’ve been here longer.
certainly I’m more Catholic already by then.
more shame. less display.
Big dollbaby crocodile tears!
only shock keeps me from…
it’s all I can do not to drop my damn jaw
i turn my head the other way
don’t laugh.don’tlaugh. Don’t.
holding my breath disrupts my concentration.
an ow laugh sounds like a belabored cough groan.
ah…collaborative improvisation
“Nah you all sit here and think about what you did”
(why after all look at your victims)
she leaves. closes the door.
tears wet and pitiful dripping from her chin.
“you’re right that didn’t hurt.”
“Yeah, Gramma’s arm is not that strong anymore.”
– – – –
– – – –
Done
I get up and sit on the bed.
looking past.
“You’re just not gonna cry.”
I don’t answer
graze across her eyes forehead
trying not to look in them
not to look away.
bridge of the nose
blank
the balance is careful.
she’s mad.
She’s mad.
The door closes.
I go do something else.
Editor’s note: The poem audio is performed by Stephanie L. Batiste and directed by Margit Edwards.
