Sharecroppers' child, she was more schooled <br />In slaughtering pigs and coaxing corn out of <br />The ground than in the laws of Math, the rules <br />Of Grammar. Seventeen, she fell in love <br />With the senior quarterback, and nearly <br />Married him, but—the wedding just a week <br />Away—drove her trousseau back to Penney's, <br />Then drove on past sagging fences, flooding creeks, <br />And country bars to huge Washington State, <br />Where, feeling like a hick, she studied French to compensate. <br /> <br />She graduated middle-of-her-class, <br />Managed a Senior Center while she flailed <br />Away at an M.A., from the morass <br />Of which a poet/rock-singer from Yale <br />Plucked her. He loved her practicality; <br />She adored his brilliance. Sex was great. <br />They married in a civil ceremony. <br />He played around, for which she berated <br />Herself, telling friends things were "hunky-dory." <br />Resentment grew... oh, you said "life"? That's another story.<br /><br />Charles Harper Webb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wife-of-the-mind/
