A Space for Women of the World
You were always falling on account of
your “special” clumsy feet. Of course, the last
one picked for dodge ball or any kinda sport.
I didn’t even love you then.
You were always falling for pretty boys
who’d look right through you to your
best friend or the one who shown like
a teachers gold star.
You were always falling for those doomed
animals, no one could save—the sweet,
mangy pup kept in a garage till your uncle
shot it, unbeknownst, one school day.
You were always falling for lines by
total strangers, of lonely people in bars–
a smoky “jukebox” stage to unravel the knot
of not just your history.
You were always falling for boats with letters
on them, your buoyant wooden oar. Round and
round the dry basins of Wyoming and Montana,
pouring out into my waiting palms.
A.M. Nelson is Seminole of Florida and Crow descent. She is a BFA graduate in Creative Writing from the Institute of American Indian Arts. She is a Truman Capote Fellow and a recipient of an N. Scott Momaday Award. Currently, Anna lives in Santa Fe, NM. Her work is forthcoming in a book of poetry from Montana—the title of which is still in the works.