this iris

this one watches like a telescope
stares me down its purple and blue veins
deepening into black and can't you see
why i always feel like i'm on
some tv variety show where the announcer
laughs at his own jokes and the performers
sparkle like shiny teeth and when it's over
the tv clicks off down to a white dot
in the middle of the screen and it's time
to go to bed except this time he won't let me
go because i haven't kissed him goodnight
and he's shaking me in my purple nightgown
and pointing at the spot on his cheek
where he wants my lips and isn't it like
that dream where he takes my brother out
in the front yard on a bench and carves
a map into his chest while we stand
in a circle and watch willie's red shorts
and the pattern the tears make on his face
streaky fingerprints on a windowpane
that someone will have to wipe up
and luckily it's only a cartoon this time
those two will be at it again in the morning
while crouched behind the cereal box i wait
for my turn to go on now
can you hear those flowers laughing?

ãElizabeth Terry
9/12/93