Lisa Roberts

A response to Sarah Ruhl

Irish Twin

 

Does he have a beard these days
or not? Nevermind. A man can always
use aftershave, so that’s what he’ll get.
I never could tell what he wanted.
Dopey grin. Ridiculous ears
standing out like a cut pumpkin.
Edwin Junior still nursing and along comes
this one, stealing my very milk from
Edwin’s lips. Slouched shoulders.
Droopy eyes. I had to send him off to school
with his brother just to get a moment’s
peace. It’s true he couldn’t do much –
nearly a year younger – but what was I
to do? Edwin Senior liked everything
just so and there was mama in the back room
to wash and feed and clean up after.
Came to be we couldn’t have a simple
meal together without those two nearly
coming to blows. Fussing about everything
from school bussing to the right way
to be a Christian. I just don’t know
what set those boys against each other.
When they left home, and I left Edwin Senior,
I only saw them every few years. Me,
two states over, tending Mrs. Schneider.
For good pay. Plus room and board.

 

 

To the Child who was _______

 

Unwanted isn’t the right word
exactly. Or unloved. Or abandoned.
How could I abandon what was
never mine to keep? Unsummoned.
Unthought. Yes or no was never
the question. He demanded
and my body a traitor, my erasure
so hugely visible. If land was
plowed and planted, know that
I disgorged a yellow fruit at harvest.
Made to bake, when the timer dinged,
I released a sweet treat. To the waiting.
To the hungry. No one expects
a vessel to hoard its contents.

 

 

Eat, Hew [an erasure of ‘Leda and the Swan]            

 

slow                    i       eat                                    

                             high                                                          

                                                 i                              

                    eat         his     rest                                              

         riff                           ruse                                      

                             loose       this      

dowdy     din                   i              

           range                          i      

shudder  the                    

            wall     burn           roof and tower      

              no                                

                            i                    cut   up      

 masters              blood            the air  

i    spit                                             power                

            i             reek       cold ether  

 

Process Notes

Process notes go here.

Responses to Sarah Ruhl's Work

Lisa Roberts