Carol Smallwood returned to college to take creative writing classes and has founded humane societies. Her 2017 books include: In Hubble’s Shadow (Shanti Arts); Prisms, Particles, and Refractions (Finishing Line Press); Interweavings: Creative Nonfiction (Shanti Arts); Library Outreach to Writers and Poets: Interviews and Case Studies of Cooperation; Gender Issues and the Library: and Case Studies of Innovative Programs and Resources (McFarland).
Wallpaper Triolet
The yellow wallpaper bars of limitation
mocked, “So you thought you’d get away?”
Cal said I never would with repetition.
The yellow wallpaper bars of limitation:
it was either return, give up my position,
or lose Lenny and May.
The yellow wallpaper bars of limitation
mocked “So you thought you’d get away?”
Lenny’s picture was on the wall in crayon,
dripping red from a heart split in two—
me in a cage with a dog dish drawn octagon.
Lenny’s picture was on the wall in crayon
dashes from my face tears; black stripes
through Cal’s eyes were dollar signs.
Lenny’s picture was on the wall in crayon,
dripping red from a heart split in two.
Sulphur walls like The Yellow Wallpaper
torn by a wife trapped under it:
had the wife’s husband damned her Lucifer?
Sulphur walls like The Yellow Wallpaper
a yawning, ever-present sepulcher;
Cal, also a doctor, damned me witch.
Sulphur walls like The Yellow Wallpaper
torn by a wife trapped under it.
I used to teach a Women in Literature class to high school students. Every semester I read The Yellow Wallpaper to them. It’s a favorite of mine. Rubbed off on my shoulders, the smudge.
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