American Gothic
Standing beside and just a little behind my father
I yearn
to be a diva
a mere echo of a note enough
to engulf me in waves of Brava
Brava,
Brava —
tumultuous applause floating
a single rose cast in a drifting arc.
I long
to be an actress
to strut upon a stage
to die in contented madness
my blond hair floating upon a stream
phrases so eloquently meaningless
that even the flowers know that there is life
for those who can hear the pungent madness
I desire
to be a gasping harlot
to be lustfully grasped by a man
rough hands rasping against my breasts
my wild birdlike sounds trilling past his ears
as he plucks, one by one with his teeth,
the petals from the scents of my body
I want
to be a woman
to hear that I am more
more than the object planted here
beside and a little behind my father
shapeless and soundless.
(The poem is based on the painting titled American Gothic by Grant Woods. The painting has come to represent many things. For some, the man and woman represent a loveless marriage. Ironically, the models for the original painting were a father and daughter. This fact put a new spin on how I had seen the painting.)
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