Poem-A-Day: To My Best Friend's Big Sister by Ross Gay

October 11, 2013 To My Best Friend's Big Sister by Ross Gay     One never knows does one how one comes to be standing most ways to naked in front of one's pal's big sister who has, simply by telling me to, gotten me to shed  all but the scantest flap of fabric and twirl before her like a rotisserie chicken as she  observes and offers thoughtful critique of my just  pubescent physique which is not a thing to behold what with my damp trunks clinging to my damp crotch and proportion and grace are words the definition of which I don't yet know nor did I ask the  the mini-skirted scientist sitting open-legged and now shoeless on my mom's couch though it may have been this morning while chucking papers I heard through the Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock pulsing my walkman a mourning dove struggling snared in the downspout's mouth and without lowering the volume or missing a verse I crinkled the rusted aluminum trap enough that with a little wriggle it was free and did not at once wobble to some powerline but sat on my hand and looked at me for at least one verse of "It Takes Two" sort of bobbing its head and cooing once or twice before flopping off but that seems very long ago now as I pirouette my hairless and shivering warble of acne and pudge burning a hole  in the rug as big sis tosses off Greek and Latin words like pectorals and gluteus maximus standing to show me what she means with her hands on my love handles and now  I can see myself trying to add some gaudy flourish to this memory  to make of it a fantasy  which is why I linger hoping to mis-recall the child  me make of me someone I wasn't make of this  experience the beginning of a new life  gilded doors kicked open blaring trombones a full beard Isaac Hayes singing in the background and me thundering forth on the wild steed  of emergent manhood but I think this child was not that child obscuring, as he was, his breasts by tucking his hands into his armpits and having never even made love to himself yet was not really a candidate for much besides the chill of a minor shame that he would forget for 15 years one of what would prove to be many such shames stitched together like a quilt with all its just legible patterning which could be a thing heavy and warm to be buried in  or instead might be held up to the light where we see the threads barely holding so human and frail so beautiful and sad and small from this remove.          Copyright © 2013 by Ross Gay. Used with permission of the author.   About This Poem     "I am often amazed how minor though significant events slip out of my head and resurface--for various reasons. In this case, I imagine, the event slipped away because I was in some way wanting to protect ideas I have about myself--that is, I was ashamed of it, and maybe remained so until I was able to shake it out and kind of bless it with a poem."    --Ross Gay Poem-A-Day Launched during National Poetry Month in 2006, Poem-A-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. Browse the Poem-A-Day Archive.   Ross Gay is the author of two collections of poetry, including Bringing the Shovel Down (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2011). He teaches at Indiana University in Bloomington and Drew University.      Most Recent Book by Gay Bringing the Shovel Down (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2011)         Related Poems Playgrounds by Laurence Alma-Tadema The Portrait by Stanley Kunitz Fifteen, Maybe Sixteen Things to Worry About by Judith Viorst __________________________ Love reading Poem-A-Day? Help support it today.     Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit Poets.org.

Forward this email This email was sent to prentice654.allsms@blogger.com by poetnews@poets.org |   Update Profile/Email Address | Instant removal with SafeUnsubscribe™ | Privacy Policy. Academy of American Poets | 75 Maiden Lane | Suite 901 | New York | NY | 10038