I Don't Like Michael
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George
BS,RN
August 1st, 2006

The duck pond is large enough to swim, and the land goes on for acres, the little girl feels
Escape from the city, mother screaming obscenely, drunk, unhappy--mad as a wet hen
This week is forever, there are country cats lined up for food on the patio, and no one hollers
"Get out" for they live here, some pregnant, and the outdoor dogs do not chase them away
There is food in the cupboard, and freezers of ice cream, sweet treats, and hunger never comes
Her belly is full, sleep comes without molestation, and my cousin Michael is my new best friend
We walk the fenced land, with a small basket of food, the world of the woods
Cawing birds in tallest trees, dripping dark green foliage and there are no
Snakes to chase us out of our adventure, there are places here that no one
Goes, old rusted shovels left in summer rains years past, we walk all day until
Our legs are strong but like jelly, we eat like ravenous animals, take a hot bubble bath, watch
Television, to go to bed, and at night there is sleep, more sleep, and pink cloud dreams, no
Fear of mother lurking behind that door to beat me into screaming tears, to rape me again
She does not know me, and this week I do not miss her at all, Tuesday comes too quick and
Counting seven days down till I must go makes me sad, we play games, chase birds and color
Until the afternoon sun goes down, and dinner is cooked and waiting, we eat again and again
My Aunt Annie knew but she is crazy, she must take pills for schizophrenia
She is blonde and beautiful, my mother looks nothing like me, she smiles
Wishes she had a girl but she had two boys, my cousin Michael is one
She has a funny laugh, but she is kind, and hugs me like a mother does
The week passed too quickly, and the ride home was too long, and the summer heat burned
New holes in my thoughts, for just a child like me thinking how to escape is a full time job
I get good grades, my heart shuts down, my mind forgets, and I march like a wooden soldier
One day I am seventeen, college bound, and the miles remove me from her sweaty paws
Grasping my lost virginity in sick haven of Seagrams 7, the New England winter covers me
In deep snow, for the first time I have a right to go away, the orphan cries, I am here...

Hitch hike to Plum Island, my friend Molly and I go out and the spring ocean of the north east is
Cold ice cold, we remain bare foot until the dinner hour and it is time to hitch hike back to study
For exams, get warm next to the radiators in our dormitory, sip warm apple cider late into the
Night, recite facts we will never repeat, write papers we will never read again, and wonder how
It will feel if we finally grow up, (we both did), and be loved by both parents so that we one day
Might be what they were not to us, we demand the dream be filled, thankful we are together
Life has become citrus, like orange blossoms in a far off clime
Today I hide in my room write in a journal that no one sees of
The mental pain of being an orphan alone, I miss my father for
He loves me, but grateful I am to be away from this monster of birth
The rich line this ivy league campus, all have sports cars, and never work as I do in the summer
Waiting tables, making green dollars to buy college books, forced to study harder to keep my 4.0
GPA or lose a scholarship, the only way I live is by exertion, not one day since birth did I play alone
Have fun with friends, or think of feelings that are locked away deep in this iron chest with no key
Rock and roll expresses my rage, driving force, and the time comes near where I graduate, and go
To further education, marriage, no children; I do not want them, wonder why I do not for I do not..
Hacking cough, fever, pneumonia I am not eating well
Infirmary, medications, and a big fat nurse to tend my need
Sipping soup, wracking coughs, escape one more time from
Death which circles around my head, austere yet demanding
Someday I want to be like you, not grow up and enter childhood, innocent, untouched and loved
The moment has passed; the stress of pursuit wears me out, this summer I will not come back
New Jersey is hot and humid, there are cooler places to go; strangers who will not punish me for
"Karen," and nothing will make me feel beautiful, she screams from a distance, degrades ME
My cousin Michael is mad he cannot go to college; he dates a Puerto Rican girl, his mother cries
He works with Uncle Frankie, and it is my fault he is a failure, it is easy to say "I don't like Michael."

When Daddy died they came to his funeral...
They did not mean to come, they are mean...
"I don't like Michael..."