my litany for survival

I’ve already forgotten

the times you threatened/to fall

clots of red from my inadequate uterus

in the middle of the night

rushed me fretting to the hospital

praying to a god I’m not quite sure I ever believed in

for your survival/I was unwilling to take chances

just in case the conservative nuts were right about something

I chanted/said some semblance of contrition

made promises I knew I could not keep

if only you would stay

I would do this or that

differently/knowing full well

I love the map of my present life

I’ve nearly forgotten the ptyalism/which is really

a fancy way to say the mouth

fills frothy with globules of spit/interrupting

conversations/in every room

I vomited/bled/spat out the belief/more hope

that I could be somebody’s mother

now I am yours

tiny life beginning

with such a choir of good wishes preceding

know always you were wanted/loved

by more than just me

my own mother left me early

first years flying

low self-esteem to begin the journey

of how could I love anyone

when my own mother never loved me/cliché

how could anyone

hold a candle to that first abandonment

all my life I have tip-toed/fought

begged for acceptance

from a complete circle

closed by the unforgiving women

sharing my genetic material

we are good at sitting in judgment of others

clacking our mouths pursed in disapproval

I was amazed at how they could never say

anything good

of my accomplishments

only my shortcomings/real and perceived

they lamented how odd I am/different from my mother

but odd nonetheless/the apple never fall far

watch that tree/it will come to no fruit

but look at you now

daughter

it is my intention to be

different/with you

you were lucky enough to be born

girl/I am looking forward

to watching you become/woman

I can hardly wait

to hear your voice/even in opposition to my own

and we should admit early

that politics are hard

on mothers and daughters

I expect us to rumble/wrestle

create generational bruises that will have to be survived

partake in arguments that will have to be

apologized for

I have done my best to name you

in preparation for a road I imagine

will look oddly similar/different from mine

vulnerable/resilient/rock of beauty/reason for love

I hope your name

will help you carry justice in your palms

keep your intentions clean/with the cloths

of warrior women who came ahead of you

ahead of me/mine include

Madonnas/whores/mad women in attics

old maids/witches/ hags

virgins who were never really virgins

except when they needed to be

smart women/make your own list of saints

fondle it often

this rosary of Amazonian nomenclatures 

recite them/chant them as prayer

for your own daughter

for your mother/who often thinks she knows

more than she does

forgive me/daughter/for the sins I know

will stain your childhood with confusion

later

send you to some strangers expensive couch

to thrash out how your mother

never loved you/loved you too much

therapists will always find our hidden dysfunction

but if I do anything right

you will be fierce/not necessarily loud like me

but you will have cause to challenge me

call me archaic/pick apart my philosophies

I hope we will be able to breathe through it

not unlike the way I breathed

through sixteen hours of labor/contracting

no drugs to fool the body

twisting/transitioning/shaking off

the ills of my own childhood

intermittent pains

preparing my womb/spreading cervix dilating

six centimeters/one hundred percent effacing

I was prepared to go all the way

and then nothing

needle to spine/tap-tap for five hours later

no change/except your heart slowing

beginning the rush of doctors

inserting tubes/drugs/hands to encourage you

to beat faster

oxygen mask over mouth

I mumbled the list of saints I kept ready

Audre

Adrienne

June

Jean

Patricia

Bernice

your heart pulsed wild then

rapid dance making the decision

to slice me smiling hip to hip

blood pouring numb in the cold operating room

and then you were here

wide-eyed and alert/you surveyed the damage

and did not blink

I remember thinking

this child will always send me into panic

such is the terror of motherhood

you cannot save your child

from everything

but you cannot help trying

flying right into the eye of some hurricane

because you heard she might have gone there

for a party

wild ride ahead/child I’m ready

welcome to the village

glad you here/now/taking up space

here’s to you/finding among us

even more room to grow

Zuri-Siale: Welcome to the village