Regular Poem: Young Women, I Implore You

3 Apr

If you can
by any means
swing it,
I highly recommend acquiring
a middle-aged-lady friend.

A high-grade specimen will
indubitably
occupy a space in your life
you didn’t even realize
needed filled.
Or if you did realize it,
you perhaps
didn’t know how to articulate
your desire
or whom to articulate it
to.

If you pick the right one–
or if the right one picks you
(it is a mutual selection
process,
the details of which are
murky and mystical)–
manifold benefits
abound.

I could
elucidate
advantages
until I was old enough to be another girl’s
middle-aged-lady friend:

scattered sentences and strewn cerebrations celebrating
bike rides and easy banter and beauty tips and craft projects.

But chiefly,
she sees you
as not the you you
are
but the best you.

And not in the cheesy high school teacher way.
But a fathomable way, a palpable way.

She doesn’t just see it.
She believes it.
And she makes you believe
the stupid you you
are
isn’t really you but kind of a
sub you,
and–unlike a cheesy high school teacher–
you don’t have to do a lot of growing and learning and using your potential
to become your best you
because you are your best you
already,
and there’s nowhere to go but up.

Because you’re not a high school girl;
you’re a grown woman
who has a middle-aged-lady friend
who asks you for advice sometimes
because she believes you are
you
and
you
is something
worth being.

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2 Responses to “Regular Poem: Young Women, I Implore You”

  1. Silver Screenings 3 April 2014 at 7:27 PM #

    This made me a little verklempt. I kid you not.

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