(taut jeans dancing)

An Anthology of Poetry about Being Young and Growing Up
Table Of Contents
Acknowledgments & Links



Jo Carson

I cannot remember all the times he hit me. I might could count black eyes, how many times I said I ran into doors or fell down or stepped into the path of any flying object except his fist. Once I got a black eye playing softball. The rest were him. Seven, eight. I can name what of me he broke: my nose, my arm, and four ribs in the course of six years' marriage. The ribs were after I said divorce and in spite of a peace bond. I spent the night in the hospital. He did not even spend a night in jail. The sheriff I helped elect does not apply the law to family business. He always swore he never meant to do it. I do believe he never planned. It was always just the day, the way I looked at him afraid. Maybe the first time he did not mean to do it, maybe the broken ribs were for good luck. I want to post this in ladies rooms, write it on the tags of women's underwear, write it on coupons to go in Tampax packages because my ex-husband will want to marry again and there is no tattoo where he can't see it to tell the next woman who might fall in love with him. After six months, maybe a year, he will start with a slap you can brush off. Leave when he slaps you. When he begins to call you cunt and whore and threatens to kill you if you try to go it will almost be like teasing but it is not. Keep two sets of car keys for yourself. Take your children with you when you go. If he is throwing things, he is drinking. If he is drunk enough he cannot catch you. A punch in the breast hurts worse than a punch in the jaw. A hit with an object does more damage than a hit with a fist unless he is so drunk he picks up a broom instead of a poker. If you pick up the poker, he will try to get it. If he gets it, he will hit you with it. He probably will not kill you because you will pass out and then, he is all the sudden sorry and he stops. When he says he will not hit you again as he drives you to the hospital, both of you in tears and you in pain, you have stayed much too long already. Tell the people at the hospital the truth no matter how much you think you love him. Do not say you fell down stairs no matter how much he swears he loves you. He does love you, he loves you hurt and he will hit you again.

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