KarMel
Scholarship 2007
|
“To Become a Man” By Ashley
(Noah) Schmidt |
Desciption of Submission: Sestina poem about
living with the often sexist expectations of being a woman, but knowing that
you were born as a man and not sure what to do.
|
Sometimes I get sick of
trying A woman still isn’t a man No amount of steel can
forge the knives Strong enough to wretch me
from the kitchen. the hallway holds my
tarried heart, but my hands are still soapy from work. This is harder than real
work Because I can’t give up on
trying The drumming of clocks
can’t silence my heart. I know where dignity lies,
in the breast of man I only burn what I find in
the kitchen, My hands too untrained to
hold knives. He bought me those shiny
sharp knives Brought them I can smell the new
cologne he’s trying, When
he comes into my kitchen, Bragging to all near by
that he’s the man. I try to hide my jealous
heart. Late that night I listen
to his heart, I’m tempted to run and
grab those knives, To see what it is that
makes him the man To finally see how his
noble innards work. I could never imagine it,
so there’s no use trying I rampage into the
kitchen. What a dark and empty
kitchen? I can’t step in. I haven’t
any heart. This room, still lonely,
though not from lack of trying, Stands apart from the
house, as if gutted by a knife, I know this will never
work. I am no match for a woman,
but a poor substitute for a man. Have you ever seen a word
so small as man? I’ve never felt so wrong,
but in the kitchen, He tells me a woman should
never work. I want to stop my heart Before it breaks, or
throws itself onto the knives, Times may be more
confusing, but always trying. It takes real work to be a
man. I must keep trying to
leave the kitchen. My wicked heart knows
where I keep the knives. |