Ode To My Stepmother-Nicole Searcey

Posted: April 20, 2011 in Poetry
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I meet her on a Tuesday

we drive to the east side

it was my first time

I love the open sky, with clouds like cotton

little shrubs scattered on a vein of water

we cross a bridge with giant sturgeon beneath

that listen, to flexing bolts screech

A monument of wild mustangs

takes me back to a time of cowboys and indians

nostrils flared in defiance, on the almost bald rolling hills

and echos of indignant neighs, somehow find my ears

She’s a charming woman and I’m a sceptic

as she buys me ice cream and tells me my mother is crazy

what sixteen year old doesn’t think that?

it was the norm for me

Crazy is as crazy does while she’s up all night

doing my homework in her bubbly perfect writing

Mine more sloppy and her pages fall in the garbage upon morning

Snow, me, backpack, and bike ride many layered to school

Chris and I walk in twilight of a zillion stars

he introduces me to dealers of a 2,000 person town

saturated air comes from the dry field

scented sultry, with song of cricket legs

my golden, mole-speckled skin knows why they sing

Cindy the meth dealer, frequents

a two bedroom trailer where I sleep on the floor

the other room is for her rock collection

and the dog gets the couch, of course

My father haunts his bedroom often

his spectre presence graces the kitchen in silence

as she screams at me for not writing the affidavit

and restricts me for arriving two minutes late

evil stepmother never sleeps

tells tails of a man named Mike

that peeks in the windows at night

and makes up bold lies to slander me

but the sun still shines and I’ve got a bike!

20 mile rides alone in the countryside

the smell of baked pavement, bone-dry pasture

and horses hooves, beat in the electric swirl of wind

in time, with my thoughts of running away

couches run out too fast in a 2,000 person town

I pick up the phone and dial a number I’ll never forget

“Mom, can you please help”

she drops everything to save me

if love exists, that is it

or instinct working properly

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