When she spears me with an you're-an-idiot look over the rims of her glasses,
and I end up at home hours later,
Frowning naked in the mirror while finishing off a bag of peanut m&ms,
My chocolate fingerprints evidence for a diet forensic pathologist,I slide to the bottom of the tub,Let the water rain down on my convulsing body to bathe my tears.Yet, the pain remains and now I have a stuffy nose.Then, mentally, I finger my goals,My dreams deferred and I curse aloud.Damn! Flannery O'Connor and her Southern genius on the human condition.Damn! Meg Wolitzer and her Jewish feminist brilliance.Damn! Damn! Damn! Stephenie Meyer for being a fluke success.Buried beneath the weight of words;I take heart, wipe away black tears,Kiss my daughter, the next generation feminist;A Buffy...not a Bella.
A Buffy battling the Bella's of the world.
A roundhouse kick to her pining female foil.
An uppercut to Her male-dependent prose.Because my daughter deserves an example of me.She needs to know how to defeat the enemy,And stake inferiority,While wearing stylish shoes.