Victoria Rose

by Ella Barstowe

This day won’t last forever

And tomorrow’s almost here
So drink three cups of water,
Some Gatorade for electrolytes
And chamomile for emphasis,
Two aspirin for the pain,
And a firm pinch on the arm
Or a cut
To remind you that you’re still real
And you’re still you
And you still remember
How you got this far.

But you accidentally remember too much

And your monsters come back
To attack from all sides
And mine do too,
Since the call is sounded.
But this time,
This time we know
What we didn’t know before
And we fight with all weapons drawn
Until our monsters subside
And we realize
We’re still here sitting together,
Gasping for air,
Throats tightening
Around the stories of our pasts
As they try to escape
Mixed with tears.

With tears in your voice,

Your hair in your hands,
Your lips curl into an arc
As they sip
On the chamomile we prescribed,
And then
You stop drinking,
Tell your last secret,
Hiccup,
And announce that you’re going to bed.

Revisiting Grandma’s House

by Ella Barstowe

Here, I grew up

With mothy dresses
And amber patchwork meadows,
With rusty fences, musty barns,
And twelve mothers’ attempts at unconditional love
For thirty three of the world’s most pointy-chinned children.

Here, I learned
That “lame” does not just mean a horse with a bad leg,
That if you are rude enough to ask Grandma
To give you her old toys, she will,
And that if you are polite,
You get nothing,

That all five of my mother’s sisters
Are clinically depressed,
And that I am likely to develop hip problems
In my early thirties.

Here, I discovered
The meaning of republican
And alcoholic
And out-of-wedlock
And bail bonds
And terminally ill
And refinance
And Luke 21:19

Here, I was told
That the life-size doll in the attic
Is actually Aunt Patty, who died young,
Preserved in a morbid display of taxidermy,
(Which proved to be untrue)

And that if I go to college,
My eggs will shrivel up
Like tadpoles abandoned in an evaporating pond
And I will miss my short window
Of child-bearing opportunity.

Here, I learned
That ain’t ain’t a word
Because my mama said it ain’t
And that I ain’t never going to feel
Like a part of this family,
Despite my undeniable McCullough chin.