Sweet Nothings
By Sherine Elise Gilmour
It's #tbt! Enjoy this great one from SWWIM Every Day's archives!
Some mornings the bus is a miniature party. Our words like streamers. At each bus stop: a different home. A door opens and a child with a ventilator is carried down. At each stop, applause from all the mothers lucky enough to ride the bus. “Go Sasha, go Sasha.” We compete to catch the child’s attention. Who will hit the right tone? The right volume. Right smile or word or phrase to make the child notice and grin. The children who can walk do so down the rubber yellow-lines of the bus, turned fashion runway. We want them to strut. We call and hoot. We pout, blow kisses. We are inappropriate with our affections, nicknames, the way we touch their hands like mini saviors, the passing of saints. The way we demand high fives. “She’s better looking than Beyonce. Watch out for the boys.” “Look at Jaden’s Micky Mouse sneakers. He’s so handsome today.” The children are rained down on in every language. For their clothing and their hair. For the toys they are technically not allowed to bring onto the city-sanctioned bus. “Oh my! Is that Thomas? Is that Miss Piggy? Is that your blinky?” “Look what Eduardo has today, his very own cellphone. Mr. Businessman, that’s what you are.” We give them futures, possible and improbable. Proclamations: “Look at all these beautiful, blessed children.” Excuses: “That’s okay, you don’t have to say “hi.” Tender jibing: “Are you going to stay awake so we can see your eyes?” And for my son, always, “How is my boyfriend this morning?” These mothers smile their widest smiles as if paparazzi are on the bus, as if it’s picture day every day. I am slow to rise to this kind of excitement but manage to say good morning. My son and I take our seats in this moving cranking manual ignition diesel-tank theater of love. Who are these women? I have never met any like them before.
Sherine Elise Gilmour graduated with an MFA in poetry from New York University. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and her poems and essays have appeared in American Journal of Poetry, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Many Mountains Moving, River Styx, So To Speak, Tinderbox Literay Journal, and elsewhere.
10/4 / Meet the Artist with visiting poet-in-residence Raina J. León / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 6:00 pm EST / Free
10/4 / Poetry Reading with visiting poet-in-residence Raina J. León and local poet Susannah Winters Simpson / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 7:30 pm EST / Free
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This gave me tears. Brilliant observed poem: "moving cranking manual ignition diesel-tank theater of love" is a fabulous line. The energy is captured and maintained all the way to the end. Cinematic. Very moving.