We Marry Our Mothers, We Marry Our Fathers
poem
I didn't marry my mother but I expect the world to rage at me. I didn't marry fire but I suspect that God is an arsonist. I didn't marry my father but I expect the world to abandon me. I didn't marry the river but I suspect the drought will vanish it sometime soon. I didn't marry my mother but I expect the world to tell me hundreds of lies. I didn't marry the wind but I suspect that tornadoes are born from doubt and fear. I didn't marry my father but I expect the world to go mute and still. I didn't marry the earth but I suspect that quakes will liquify my bones. I didn't marry my parents. No, it's their sorrow that has become my spouse and I remain the child who daily renews my wild and domestic vows.
Neither myself nor my wife are perfect but thank whomever you will that I did NOT marry my mother, a paranoid schizophrenic. I often wonder what a healthy version of my mom would have been like. She was a reader and a writer! Even sick she the was first member of her family to go to college, became a journalist, interviewed the rich and famous in her small town Wellsville NY, a lot of farmers discover black gold!! My maternal relationship was horrible right up to her death at 75 but I recognize now, at least intellectually, that she did her best with what she had! Thank you for this poem it’s touching me in true ways
Yes, I am a wild, sassy, domestic, Black woman-child, and I love this, it’s my new motto: I remain the child
who daily renews my wild
and domestic vows.