Welcome to Poetically Yours. Poetically Yours showcases poems by northern Illinois poets, and sometimes writers from other states. This week’s poet is from Deerfield, Massachusetts.
Erika Higgins Ross is a writer and therapist. Her work has been published in Funny Pearls Womens Humour Journal, Juice Magazine, Mommy Poppins, LA.com, Your Teen Magazine, and Stagebill. Ross was a founding member of the all-girl band Big Panty. She has been awarded writing residencies at Studios of Key West and Key West Literary Seminar. She is an avid fan of public radio.
Here’s her poem “When Your Daughter Googles You.” (This poem contains adult themes.)
When Your Daughter Googles You
Make no mistake
at some point she will ache
to know you before there was her
to find out what has been
transferred and might be stuck
in her bones her blood her brain.
What if she finds a breakbeat trip-hop mix
by British deejay club boys with
your voice scratchy from post nasal drip
draining cocaine night
rave tent flashing lights at Glastonbury
sex and drugs / lost and lust.
What if she’s just old enough
to understand what you mean
when you moan
still getting high with Howie?
Just old enough to catch
thighs rubbing together?
Make no mistake
she will play it for her friends.
Say, this is my mom!
This was my mom.
Could this be my mom?
You will be proud ashamed.
Cool mom is a dangerous game.
Telling the truth the whole truth
dips you into ground too fertile
sinkhole quicksand honesty.
You say, yes that is me.
Well, that was me.
Hide how much of that rabid writhing
lead singer is lodged inside
this respectable PTA shell.
This half-alive sober body.
Joan Didion says we must keep notebooks
to stay in nodding touch
with the people we used to be.
That ethereal desire over drum and bass.
My daughter googled my name
and found my ghost.
