Digging up some old posts for new reads….
June 13, 2010
An innocent question, or so it appears: “Mom, which of these poems will be easier to analyze?” My daughter, 17, pushes them across the table for me to read. The first, by Maya Angelou, is about men. Men who use, abuse, take what they want and return you damaged. The second, by Margaret Atwood, is about a dancer. A stripper. Why she does the job, what she sees and feels.
Flashback, 1983. New York, West 47th Street. A red sequined g-string, flapping with dollar bills and 5’s (rarely the 10s and 20s, those were given to the slim beauties) – like plumage adorning pale round hips like the feathers of some strange attempting-to-be exotic bird.
I read the two selections, feeling the words like tiny pinpricks, and look back at my daughter, 17, and think: what does she know of such things? She has lived her…
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Pre-Existing Condition 