Patch Blog: Death Threat at the Park

In the light that shines

Between the swing set and the slide

She strikes an unintentional pose—

Or maybe she knows—

She turns our minds to our men:

In their offices,

Their co-workers, clients, coffees, lunches, overtime…

She moves with confidence and ease—

The tease—

Her dancer stance

Places magnets between our shoulder blades

And jewels upon our sternums;

And we remember that we have, not just milk, but breasts—

And stick out our chests.

Don’t compare.

Don’t stare.

Look there:

The plump nannies laugh and chat,

Comfortable in their loose skin and stretch marks,

Even while the murderess glides through the park.

We are not yet un-young enough

To be resigned to age’s signs

Anxiety plagues us as we push through society,

Pushing our offsprings on these swings.

She sidles by and says hi, as I stand.

Hello, I chirp, exactly as if

She does not hold my entire life

In the palm of her poised, polished hand.