Musings and Misgivings
I am porous
I lose pieces of me
when I forget to say
I love you,
little girl
I expect others to
fill my spaces,
like planets spinning,
synchronized in iridescence
But men are meteors
leaving debris
or, simply leaving,
in search of something
bigger
better
untouched
There’s more impact that way
Meteors are not aimless
but I have no sense of direction
I wish I was a satellite
In the end,
all that’s left
Is empty space
Someday, I will learn to
fill it with I love you,
little girl
7-3-22
If fireworks can scream
why can’t we
It was hush hush
when my mom was sixteen
and noticed a peer
disappeared for nine months
babies aren’t quiet
but their mothers always had to be
I am not quiet
when I am pleasured
I am not quiet when
I dissent
How can we celebrate a country
where someone’s baby
has to carry one
where missing indigenous women
are never sought or found
where black mothers die threefold
because white mothers
are bleeding next door
where genitals are inspected
before pronouns are respected
and marriage equality
was a passing dream
If fireworks can scream
we can, too
6/30/22
we don’t respect death
we are crows with
shiny objects
tiny hands catch bullets
instead of baseballs
and we cry what now,
but now is the same as before
only guns have safety
the first time I pulled a trigger
I nearly shot a man hiding in the hill
I find no pleasure in power
unless it is shared
but sharing is only taught in classrooms
and it dies with our children
America is the land of promise,
of empty beds and crowded safes,
of talking heads and screaming babies,
of grieving families and political maybes
life is figurative
until it is taken
until mothers weep
in the streets of Texas
and New York
but by then it is death
and we don’t respect death
so what now
05-26-22
When I look back
I see the flags
full mast
(always a reason
never the priority)
You can’t build a home
on an island
While you tapped SOS
and leaned on strangers
I patched leaks
and leaned on the strength
of the women before me
who had no choice
but I do
I chose you then
(always a reason
never the reality)
But I choose me now
4/6/22
Is it what you want
I chew on this thought like tree bark
praying it will quell the ache in my gut,
but
my organs know
I do not want
to wonder forever
if you love her
if you love me
or if we are all just patches
never a quilt
you are always cold
because you want
it’s why I loved you
but now I hate those graphic tees
all who wander are lost
stitching experiences
together until
halves are whole
I want to see the world
through the eyes of my family
not strangers
I want to fold the sheets
and know you will sleep
beside me
in them, in there, in then
wherever, however, whomever
just not her
please not her
is it what you want
3/10/22
Do people change or do circumstances
between second chances
and first goodbyes
I don’t say goodbye, I disappear
too stubborn to hear
about dying
To see you again alone
is a reminder to run
as we’ve always done
to separate parts of the earth,
screaming into notebooks
while never acknowledging
words exist
I didn’t leave you
you were never there
Eagle’s plume,
You dance on wind
And cradle the sun
I am drawn to all Fathers
Who rock the skies to sleep
Sing to me,
Bathe me in affirmations
So I can soak in them
Whenever I am parched
Yesterday my belly swelled with
Your starry smile,
Each tooth a Great Wall
Between your tongue and mine
Today I am older
Happy
To look up but not wish
To look back but not miss
Predation,
Only the empty nests
Where we left the future
To the birds
8/3/21
Did I love you
Or did I love my reflection
Fragmented/Split
I learned how to say sorry this year
I hear children are usually taught it
But I was never a child
And I never had parents
Sometimes I stay in bed
And wish for something unfamiliar
I plant flowers now
When I water them,
I remember to take a drink
You should see the house
Linda the neighbor said it’s lovely
Linda is lovely
Still, dirt stays in my fingernails
So when I hold myself, I feel grounded
I leave messes
Because I don’t want to be clean
I don’t want anything to end
I did love you
04-10-21
Decades of hiding in mirrors,
diving into deep ends
and drowning in drink one,
two, six, eight
I don’t know who I am
Do you hear me?
I never had the chance
When there is never silence
you create it
You swallow your tears and your dreams
and let everyone speak for you
You spend every waking hour trying to piece together
why you are now made of ammunition
explosive and cold
All you want is to be held
but you rip into your own flesh
until you’re unrecognizable
and you force them to tell you
what you already know
Then you lie down
and hope you never find the strength
to stand up
02-07-21
Sometimes I think it’s either Vice President or driving off a cliff
Chapped nipples and overqualified at the front desk
Or pantsuit and laureate
Glass ceilings shatter and
shake the steel shingles above them,
Still the world screams
“See! She did it! She is amazing!”
Yes she is
They are
They always have been
Passed over for a white man
With his trust funds and his racism and his allegations
They’ve all sacrificed their dreams for the good of family, society, self
Preservation
But you never see it
You toast a drink when they’re behind the podium
She swells with pride
Then she drowns in the pillow
1/21/21
Gretchen Pleuss 