Elizabeth Kerlikowske
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Knowing your place
Line up to be dismissed for recess.
Raise your hand for lunch count,
now get in line. Line up by height
so the tall go last and one girl stands
with the boys. Line up to buy your
savings bonds and in the gym, line up
for polio vaccine, pink splop on
the sugar cube. Line up to exit the bus
when the fourth grade goes to the Civic
Auditorium to see the naturalist bait
bears. Back in line, the bus, the gym
for square dancing where the sexes
are not even. The tall girl has to be
a boy. By then it’s Christmas. Wait
in line at Herpolsheimer’s to ride the
elevated train and look down on girdles
and negligees, tackle and tinseled frying
pans. Line up to visit Santa stuck between
antlers flanked by elves with Polaroids.
Watch him lift the howling toddlers.
Inch up. Inch up. Slide onto his knee
unassisted. His red arm clamps you to
his waist, his nose marbled by exploded
purple veins. A cloudy eye waters. Listerine.
Count the tiny stitches that hold his beard
together. This is the end of the line. He
turns his tired face to you and says, “So
what do you want little girl?” Don’t cry;
yes, cry. All you want is to spend the next
century on his lap with his arm around
you. You want to be little and not a boy
and you want someone else to carry
the burden like he totes that sack of toys
and shrinks until he fits down chimneys,
the chimneys that line up with their mouths
open, and he just keeps disappearing down them.
Don’t cry said
the engine to the tire:
That squirrel ran in front of you.
Indecisive.
Don’t cry said
the mirror to the driver:
Don’t watch it flailing.
The next car will finish it off.
Don’t cry said
the pavement to the squirrel:
I’ll hold you until it’s over.
We’ll be warm for hours.
Don’t cry said
the nest to the babies:
After awhile
you won’t feel hungry.
Said a crow to the crows:
In an hour
there’s a lull in traffic.
Don’t cry said
the beak to the eyeball:
You can watch all the way
down my throat.
Bio
Elizabeth Kerlikowske's works have appeared in many venues, print and online, including, most recently, SLAB, New Verse News, The Ambassador Project, Blazevox, and the Dunes Review where she was the winner of the 2010 Shaw Prize for poetry. In 2008, she won the Binnacle’s Ultrashort Fiction Award. She was also the (Kalamazoo) Community Literary Award winner for poetry this year.