young george told his daddy
“i cannot tell a lie,
i cut down that cherry tree
but lord i don’t know why.”
I walk with the daybreak krewes in the Bywater, but I am up before even them. I am sitting on the stoop when it is still so black you need a watch to know that dawn is coming at all. I do not have a watch but I can feel the veil descending, the veil between that I walk through on mardi gras. I smoke a cigarette, not because I want it—I’ve been smoking all night—but because I want the picture of myself this way. I want the memory and I want something do do with my hands. I am watching the sky when it begins to glow blue.
A rooster and two and three and a bang against a far off street sign—the first of the Bone Krewe is up.
A trumpet. Three shades lighter in the sky and I’ll do it.
A skeleton walks by, tips his hat to me. Pale, moody blue now but we are still ducking the forecast of rain. I knock on the door.
“Wake up! Wake up it’s today!”
And people laugh when I tell them women are still invisible in this world.
Things I did not know, but should.
This is a post that might save a life.
My mom worked for 25 years as an ER nurse and is convinced that a lot of women die simply because folks only know heart attack symptoms that occur in males.
Society thinks our bodies are so scandalous that it’s better to put our lives at risk than to show us how to stay safe