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A Tale of Two Cultures
Inspired by being a slightly crazed, sleep deprived, baby & diaper bag-toting mom who frequents hip student haunts.

I know a thing or two my friend
So don’t talk to me about narrowly averting disaster.
I know a thing or two: about crusty crumpets–and the like,
Things you may not know overmuch about.
I see you staring at me, thinking that I must have lost my squirrel
But I see through you– you with your orange coat
and purple alligator briefcase
Don’t you know your style is passé?
The zeitgeist has moved on since then.
You didn’t think I knew about the zeitgeist, did you.
Well, let me tell you something: I know a thing or two.
And moreover, I have been around.
You can glare at me all you want,
But you know I am too seasoned to be considered arrogant.
Only twenty-somethings can be obnoxious, and I am thirty-three.
Don’t hate me for my casual hip.
Don’t hate me for wearing this red-walled-crumbling-ceiling-fan-café
Like an old slipper shoe.
Don’t hate me for being naturally unimpressed–
The kind of unimpressed you cultivate before your mirror daily.
Here, let me tell you something.
I’ll let you into a secret: I once tried hard to be uncommon too.
But ever since my squirrel ran away, I’ve given up.
I fight my battles elsewhere.
And this here, this perfectly frayed hole you see
Puncturing my droopy saffron-colored sweater–
It came from accidentally setting my kitchen towel on fire
While preparing goat stew for my husband
And listening through the baby monitor
To my baby
Breathing through his afternoon nap.

Copyright Iole Damaskinos 2005