Oh Mother...

Painting by Max Ernst

This week I have been in angst about my mothering. Ironically, I have also had to write an essay on this poem:

Everybody's Mother by Liz Lochhead

Of course

everybody's mother always and

so on...

Always never

loved you enough

or too smothering much.

Of course you were the Only One, your

mother

a machine that shat out siblings, listen

everybody's mother

was the original Frigid-

aire Icequeen clunking out

the hardstuff in nuggets, mirror-

silvers and ice-splinters that'd stick

in your heart.

Absolutely everyone's mother

was artistic when she was young.

Everyone's mother

was a perfumed presence with pearls, remote

white shoulders when she

bent over in her ball dress

to kiss you in your crib.

Everybody's mother slept with the butcher

for sausages to stuff you with.

Everyone's mother

mythologized herself. You got mixed up

between dragon's teeth and blackmarket stockings.

Naturally

she failed to give you

Positive Feelings

about your own sorry

sprouting body (it was a bloody shame)

but she did

sit up all night sewing sequins

on your carnival costume

so you would have a good time

and she spat

on the corner of her hanky and scraped

at your mouth with sour lace till your squirmed

so you would look smart

And where

was your father all this time?

Away

at the war, or

in his office, or any-

way conspicuous for his

Absence, so

what if your mother did

float around above you

big as a barrage balloon

blocking out the light?

Nobody's mother can't not never do nothing right.

By Liz Lochhead,

Dreaming Frankenstein & Collected Poems (1984)

There is SO much to this poem, phew! I really like the frankness of this poem, its down-to-earth stream of consciousness, conversational style. Luckily, I was staying in Scotland at some friends house this past weekend and they could help me decipher the last line! Scottish people speak like this, in very negative language - talking about this poem with some Scottish women was VERY interesting. You can read more about Liz Lochhead here, she writes a lot on feminist identity and issues etc.

I hope that the auto double spacing doesn't kick in. How can I change that? How a poem is spaced is really important, especially this one.