THE PIRATE QUEEN by Maggie May Ethridge

Poem 4 / the animal hospital

Sally Mann / Jessie Bites

The Pirate Queen is a book of poetry I wrote that is 90 percent from my actual childhood and teen years, and 10 from my imagination. Writing from the perspective of my child-self and my teen-self was deeply gratifying, as it put into images and metaphors the exact way things felt to me. It was like taking powerful memories and recreating them so that they had less of a hold on me, and I had more of a hold on them. From my earliest childhood friendship to sisterhood and sex, my early years were all shrouded in deep anxiety and suffering. I survived because my mother fought for me and my sister, because I read, because we had animals, because of my two childhood girlfriends, my sister and my cousin, because of trees and water and the San Diego canyons we lived aside, and because of writing.

the animal hospital

julie and i had the garage, the hanging bulb
like a root plug from the ceiling,
pull, pull, flash.

in this light we had each other, our freckles
dusk and air across our small noses,
our tongues trembling.

in this mirror we watched each other, for what
would we do with or without one another:
twins make the best organ donors.

in this mirth we grew grave and charmed
little frogs kissed our lips and grown men
did more.

in this happening we cleaved another,
her breast took weight on my chest, her arms
downy and tiny.

in this closeness we rescued the meek,
broken winged birds, cluck faced, turpine
drenched, the smallest bug.

in this space we soothed fat cats,
writhing lizards with that sour wretch smell
of half hung tail.