the Protectorate's dotterKirsten Kaschock
knew a bit about second fiddle. Inside her second fiddle case, there was no need for a weapon like the mafia do it. So she carried a fiddle in her second fiddle case, a second fiddle, and with it took second chair in the children's symphony. She was second there only to one other child, who practiced more. The Protectorate's dotter had immense talent but was not driven to prove it. She was salutatorian of her high school class, and did not bother to win a Westinghouse, though she was very good at Westing. She was happy to maintain a low profile, and called herself after the Rodin "la femme accroupie," but again, she did not flash anyone. Crupy knew what was expected of her—a relaxed sense of her own royalty and that she not show herself to be "country." Maintaining the shift upwards by looking bored, she was not to reach too high too quickly, not to ruffle by flying the skyfeathers nor step on by walking too upright the wingtips, their toes—their shiny shiny toes. Instead, she should marry well. Expectations were limited to this, and it was easily accomplished, what with some good books, bought secondhand, to sleep inside, and a series of lovers, all aspiring revolutionaries with a love of guns, guns and Vivaldi, who strove for her.
Kirsten Kaschock Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2021, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|