SPINSTERS We called them that, thought no man wanted them, that they would always be there to help out in the kitchen, babysit, help settle an argument, do the books, or become nuns. Their mothers stopped fretting about a husband for them and we didnt ask ourselves why they were the way they were, there were too many side tunnels to that question and you could get lost. Some knew each other, were lovers. After all, there was no problem with two women sleeping in a bed as long as they kept quiet. Who knew about the room inside them where they kept the wild honey, the deep throated song. The word is gone now, consigned to footnotes in old novels, and we love them, the joy, the way it sings right out there in the street.
Posted on: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 15:41:08 +0000
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