Passive Aggressive

 

for our mother

you are still the androgynous three-year-old

dangling on the arms of a

faded Diana caricature

but in one month two weeks five days

she’ll ship you off to Pennsylvania

I’ve seen the nights crossed off in her diary

(though she only reveals this

burden after I have fetched the wine)

 

I won’t feign my liberation

from your one-sided vendettas on Marxism

or was it Wall Street

because of this need of yours

to play devil’s advocate

your genesis into the real world

is bittersweet

 

tell your roommate, your

professors, that man

standing behind you in the checkout queue

of our morning car rides as you

scribble last minute philosophies

and yell at me to turn the Oldies off

recall our mother’s

tear-stained pillowcase

can you trace us from this place,

trace me?

 

when our time zones intervene

put on Etta James and

write me cheap postcards

on Saturday evenings

 
 

Haro Lee
Yr 12, St Cuthbert’s College