Recalcitrant Defector                                                                                                                      
                         Mrs. Helland, an indictment, circa 1973

by Julie Allyn Johnson


I take your silly Women’s Liberation quiz,
                         pencil in the obvious answers
             to every question.

The other girls’ indignant       opposition chatter
             stuns and disquiets my initial enthusiasm.

                         The responses I’d given, so out of sync
with those of my classmates…

You label me recalcitrant defector,
                          some bluestocking moniker you hurl my way,
             smug with contempt.

 
                           I don’t even know what that means.


Gorgeous hair flawless skin   oh, so stylish—
             powerful evidence
                                      you cannot possibly
relate to this plain girl’s insecurity,
this struggling young  miss     mess,   yearning
             for any boy to choose me
                                       to want me
                          to favor              me
                                       so that I might enjoy
the refuge,       the status         of his reverence.

I’ll take what’s offered

             grateful for what’s given.
             grappling for balance atop that pedestal

content with the confinement of my placement there.


                                     Lessons I’ve learned
from every female in my orbit.

* * * * *

Julie Allyn Johnson, a sawyer's daughter from the American Midwest, prefers black licorice over red, cigarette-size Tootsie Rolls and Hot Tamales, practically the perfect candy. Her current obsession is tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric. A Pushcart Prize nominee, Julie’s poetry can be found in various journals including Star*Line, The Briar Cliff Review, Phantom Kangaroo, Haven Speculative, Anti-Heroin Chic, Coffin Bell and Chestnut Review.