ST. MOMMY OF THE IMPROPER RESPONSE

by Alice Campbell Romano


I didn’t call the cops,
when you whipped the boys
with insults, when you parted the air

ahead of you like a bullet to charge
for me, your wife, the one person who
could hold your blame; when you

closed a door in cool deliberation
so you could, unseen, drive a fist
into my side and still advance

until I fell back on the floor, arms up
so as to keep your feet from my face—
but you would not have struck my face—

you never did, except by mistake,
because people would see and
suspect, but you kicked when I

was down: my hips, my back, my arms,
while I curled on the floor and you
cursed me for my failure. I didn’t

speak up, over and over and over and over
and again, shuttered in silence from public
shame. I accepted the tendered gold ring,

the string of pearls, the fine leather handbag,
the silk stole so thick it rolled from hand to
hand in waves. I took the presents for amends

I believed you couldn’t say in words.
There was always a next time when you
needed me to fault, until at last I had no self,

so when the littlest boy came down the hall,
jelly toast crumbs at the corner of his mouth,
ready for me to drive him to school

with his brother who stayed in the kitchen,
crunching toast to cover his daddy’s yelling,
I said, Everything’s fine, Sweetie. Just fine.


* * * * *

"St. Mommy of the Improper Response" is part of the author's chapbook in progress at Hudson Valley Writers' Center.

Alice Campbell Romano has worked in film and TV in Italy, her native New York, and Los Angeles. Her first chapbook of poetry trembles on the brink of completion while she polishes a novel begun at Sarah Lawrence’s Writing Institute. Alice’s poetry and short stories have appeared in Atlantic Review (finalist in International Competition), Antiphon, Mudfish Review, Front Porch Review, Thema, among other online and print journals.