A Man in the Attic
Your mother believed the lie
because you never lied. Not about the one-time
shoplift, the mouse in your brother’s bed. So you lied
about Jesus. One day left, then college, beer, boys,
a bus to board. You said you knew him, and she thought:
like a hand on your neck, beads which have slipped
through your fingers, prayers. But you knew
him in the night like a moth
flicking its wings against the porchlight.
When you were born, she scrubbed
until her knuckles flaked to put bread
on your tongue. In church, she rubbed
her empty hands and felt the warmth of God.
When you lied, she believed, because she had forgotten
When you lied, she believed, because she had forgotten
the marketplace of her body, her fruits
in their baskets spilling, her skin tangy
in the open air. She had forgotten
how to know the man in the attic, the way
her daughter knew a man, hot and metallic
in her teeth, hands sprung like bows.
I agree with Pauline. It's a great idea, and in some places it's executed very, very well, but it's difficult to read. The sentences feel awkward and clunky. "So you lied about Jesus" is such an important line in the poem and it doesn't have any punch--for me, it falls a little flat (it may be the onslaught of "lie": it's the third time you use the word in as many lines.) Likewise, the line "One day left, then college, beer, boys, a bus to board" seems like it's supposed to be the daughter thinking about these things longingly, telling herself she only has one more day that she has to lie about her religion, right? But I'm not excited for her. Maybe you need a little more of her current home life there. "One day left of _____. Then: a bus to board for college, beer, boys." I don't understand the syntax of the line that follows that.
After that, it really takes off. The conflicting images of the daughter knowing a man and the mother unable to know God fully is beautiful.
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