And & Again

Jose Lopez

I am that BMW your Father
your cousin, your brother, your best friend
your half-sister,
warned you about.
But not your Mother, your sister, or your grandmother.
I said, “Will You Still Love Me When I Become A BMW?”
and you kissed me ever so tenderly and said,
Yes.
And then you entered me.
And you shaped me.
I had seven of your children.
Five beautiful healthy boys
two miscarriages
and one still birth, a boy.
Brown with a dark blue all around him
no crying
no joy
no relief
no end.
I remember as I was pushing him out.
It felt like a piece of clay with wire inside
so malleable,
but with ends and edges
that moved whichever way pressed upon
In order to release.
What happens, happens.
And your Father, your cousin, your brother, your best friend,
and even I
Sometimes even You
blame me.
“You’re a liar!
You rode that horse all day.
You knew you were pregnant.
We all knew you weren’t just
fat.”
I begin to cry.

Don’t listen to him, Love,
he’s drunk
he loves me very much and is upset
and I already told you about that, Thom!
I go inside.
Cook and clean and raise, and all dolled up
cook and clean and raise, and a little messed up
cook and clean and raise, but I don’t give a flying —-
Mama said, “Ladies don’t curse, young lady.”
And you say, It’s so unattractive when you do that
so I don’t.
And.
Under control you are, again.
Can’t find anyone one else
so you come home to me
whispering lilies into my ear
and I begin to float.
You lie on top of my dress
yes, it’s that one you bought me.
I can barely squeeze into it now
you say I look—
Sexy!
Again, you try to sneak a peak.
Someone else I am to you right now
but I don’t care.
I need your loving
I don’t get it often
because you aren’t often home.
Because I am
plain and simple
a BMW.
A Big Mexican Woman.

 
 
 
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Archives: Spring 2010.