Stack the books. Penmanship. Recipes. Atlases. Etiquette. Square your shoulders.
Pull them back. Put your chin up. Straighten the spine. That stomach: suck it in. That chest: push it out. Smile. Hold still. Let me put the books on your head. Walk. Turn around. Face me. Smile. Walk. Sit in the chair. Cross your legs at the ankle. Whores cross them at the knees. Get up. You dropped the books. Start over. Walk. Twirl. Come back.
Sit. Rise. Walk. Turn. Perfection. Climb the stairs. Turn your knees to the side. You want me looking up your skirt? You dropped them. Pick them up. Start again. Stack. Walk. Climb. Turn. Straighten. Smile. Never drop the smile. The books. The shoulders. The breasts.
Wrap hair around curlers. Moisturize. Wash. Brush. Blush. Hide the circles.
Hide the makeup. Smile. Exercise. Eliminate fat. Stretch away love handles. Say vowels: a-e-i-o-u-lose the double chin. Wear perfume. Avoid vanity. Rub lotion. Wanting your hands to look like mine? File your nails. Repair cuticles.
Iron your clothes. Scrub out spots. Make do. Sew buttons. Search the box. Restitch elastic. Darn holes. Alter. Hang to dry. Iron. Choose dresses and skirts. Match shoes and purse. Store white after Labor Day. Black after Memorial Day. Close the shower curtain; hide the stockings. Fold. Crease. Use fabric softener. Bleach whites.
Bird shit stains sheets. Semen washes out. Scrub your blood. Take pride.
Sweep. Dust. Vacuum. Remember spring-cleaning. Scrub the floors. Polish the woodwork. Remove curtains. Crumple newspapers. Mix vinegar and water. Avoid streaks. Wash walls from the bottom up. Catch the streams. Wipe the soot. Stack the wood. Make your bed. Keep his castle. His trailer. His shack. Smell Pinesol. Disinfect. Deodorize. Decorate for holidays. Organize drawers. Label boxes. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Filth reflects on you. And me.
Mark the calendar. Keep track of birthdays. Anniversaries. Buy a box of cards from the VFW. Practice penmanship. Send condolences. Acknowledge marriages. Illnesses. Births. Deaths. Send thank yous. Make casseroles. Babysit. Turn away tears. Ignore divorce. Arrest. Depression. Remember the shoulders? The chin? Make a schedule. Remain flexible. Volunteer. Remain silent. Accept no help. Offer help. Listen to gossip. Keep it to yourself. Avoid their mistakes.
Cook meals. Preheat ovens. Plant. Weed. Harvest. Shuck. Cut. Slice. Season. Mix. Stir. Preserve. Marinate. Bake bread. Cakes. Cookies. Pies. Boil. Broil. Fry. Baste. Roast. Read recipes. Hide recipes. Hide sweat. Hide tears. Smile. Set the table. Silver. China. Napkins. Consult your book. Trivets. Protect the polish. Centerpieces. Condiments. Serving dishes. Always at the table. Never set pans on the table. Heat. Aromas. Sparkles.
Compliments? Swallow pride. Or choke on it. You choose.
Pick at your food. Serve yourself last. Nibble. Jump up. Serve seconds. Reheat. Clear. Wash. Presoak. Make coffee. Serve dessert. Store leftovers. Tupperware. Saran Wrap. Reynolds Wrap. Butter tubs. Stretch the budget. No meat in the compost. No cans in the fire. No men in the kitchen. Wash dishes. Wipe counters. Scrub pans. Plan for tomorrow. Rinse. Dry. Put away. Eliminate water spots. Sweep. Turn off the light. Conserve energy.
Wipe tears. Wipe noses. Wipe bottoms. Breastfeed. Ignore fatigue. Sacrifice sleep. Spread your arms. Spread your legs. Say yes. Oh, yes. Close your mind. Open your heart. Numb yourself to the pain. You’ll forget. And remember. Pain. Smile at miracles. Coo to them. Sing lullabies. Scream inside. Our ancestors squatted under a tree in the morning. Bit on a strap. Worked in the afternoon. Carried babies on their backs. Let them bite their breasts. Suck out their life. Uttered nothing.
Strive for their strength.
Raise children. Discipline them. Yourself. Teach your daughters. Protect your sons. Keep love. Give love. Dole it out in scoops for the boys. Teaspoons for the girls. Surround them. Shower them. Show them.
Thank your mother. Live her love. Love her truth. And her lies.
Terry Shamblin Writes 