Rewitched
Tell Derwood to fuck off. Leave him
to his billboards, let him write
the words. Let the stove overflow
with smoke and lift your broomstick
from the floor, put it back
where it belongs (where he does not
belong) and fly away again
with Mother. Let the warlocks do
the dirty work. Let them take care
of their feebler selves. Kick off
your sharp toed patent leather pumps
and teach Tabitha to turn red-headed boys
into toads. Teach her to conjure swamps
and leave the toads in. He hates
what makes you woman, not witch,
the breasts you funnel into cups,
the blonded spell of your sex, your super-
nature, all your gendered tricks.
He didn’t see the blood
when you gave birth, just chewed
the wet cigar. He knew you could create
a thousand devils in a day
without the need for pain. You mop
the ground he walks on, cook & serve
his courage, wash & dry his success, but this –
is just a phase. They’ll dim the stage
before his time to age, before
the contrast shows: your husband in a rocker
with a blanket across his lap. A woman
should not live to see her husband die
but you will. Then it’s out
of Technicolor houses, off to Africa
with Doctor Bombay to heal the sick
and starved. Shake your hair
in Paris fountains. Take your shirt off
on the beach. Make love with life
and strangers. One day
you’ll forgive them. One day
you’ll come back
and reclaim the moon.
The prompt at We Write Poems this week was to create some fabulous version of yourself, then project that fabulous alter-ego into a familiar situation, such as that from a TV sitcom. I chose to be the saucy sister of Samantha from Bewitched – Sabrina. But she’s even saucier when she’s me (And in my version, witches are immortal, cause I want them to be).
mareymercy. 
Sharp right out of the gate, doesn’t let up til the end, all of it packing a punch. That first stanza of imperative verbs contrasts nicely with the rest, and I like the way it fades into contemplation at last.
Thank you!
Have mercy on us oh volatile female for we are but mere mortal males wandering a landscape of brimstone and broken beer bottles (or something like that). This is amazing, I am castigated having lost a vital part of self via the sharp knife of your poetic wit. Only a woman with a little bit of …er ahh…witch in her could possibly inscribe these lines. Very good lines I might add, however pointedly prophetic of doomed male machismo. My favorite line is the living dangerously; “Make love with life and strangers.” I enjoyed this immensely. Your talent is showing.
I’m only harping on the mortal males of the 60’s who wrote TV sitcom scripts. 🙂
Bewitched with a feminist flavor. Wow. I’m liking the Paris fountains.
I bet she liked ’em, too. 😉
Oh….. My…… God…… Your mind went on an absolute rampage here and it is intense and just took me on a rocket ride……. ! A third eye entering the imaginary lives of a television show that rocked our world forty years ago…….. This is Awesome! And sorry, I’m a guy, I want to be laying on a towel next to Elizabeth Montgomery on that topless beach…….. Wow, what an intense ride this is..
You did good things inside my mind..
spoken inside the mind
Thanks for stopping by 🙂
This is wicked good! Clever, biting, and a twist I am loving, having been a child in the 60s who used to watch this show regularly. Who knows what kinds of tricks those sitcom writers might have played with my own development . . . luckily, I was charmed enough to figure it out and enjoy the finger snapping, nose twitching potential. Ha. (PS – good to find the new blog here Marey.)
Thanks! Good to see you here!
Wow. I love your brazen and sharp lines in your characterization of Sabrina….and I like how the sharpness becomes soft in the last stanza. And the last few lines are an absolute killer: “One day
you’ll come back and reclaim the moon.” Amazing.
-Nicole
Thanks!
Cynthia, this is awesome. On first reading I wasn’t sure who “Derwood” was. But it all came clear. Excellent write.
Pamela
*became clear, agh!
I knew what you meant. LOL. Don’t you love typos? 🙂
What a delightful read. I could see Sabrina sneaking something into “Derwood’s” martinis or whatever it was that Samantha always had ready for him when he got home. And that twist, at the end, playing on the concept of Darren as a “mortal” – awesome.
Richard
Thanks 🙂