error-genous zone
1950
a few weeks ago was my birthday,
I turned three—no, four—no, three
and next week we celebrate
shelly’s, my friend across the street—
they all make jokes about “birthday suits.”
I figured it out, that means naked,
and how the two of us together
are “so cute” especially since
“you already took a bath together!”
what?
I didn’t know it was anything special
or that now we might be “too old.”
jokes shelly’s mother made,
my mother thought were funny too.
where was i? what was I doing?
“running through the lawn sprinkler”
“last summer” “til your lips were blue,”
so she threw us in her laundry tub,
no bathing suits, the water hot,
so “cute” the two of us
how could I forget?
I forgot.
but the story now told over and over,
I could tell it back by heart.
spring, and too cold to be
“running like banshees through the yard!”
our mothers in the kitchen sorting cans
or cutting squares in daddy’s newspaper,
the car in the driveway parked
but the car’s doors they’d left unlocked,
one rear door open–! the groceries gone,
shelly and I climbed in there.
we pretended to be going somewhere—
with no idea where to pretend to go.
stuck for words. s’when I said,
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
no name for what, my what, her what,
only just-in-general what’s location,
and so we did and all I saw—
“that’s your bellybutton!” “no!”
shelly giggled, pulled up her top
and showed me her bellybutton—
her other bellybutton–because
amazingly little girls have TWO!
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