Two Poems
by Courtney LeBlanc
Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary
Legend had it if you said her name three times into the mirror
she’d appear, pale as moonlight, black eyes gleaming in the dark,
hand stretched out to touch you or maybe drag you back
to whatever hell she lived in. I was too afraid to do it, even then
I knew you shouldn’t summon a woman for no reason,
shouldn’t disturb her slumber, no matter what plane
she resided on. Now, at 47, I think perhaps she was just
like me: middle-aged and exhausted, hormones tripping
through my body like a drunken toddler causing sleepless nights
and mood swings-–except I only swing between annoyance
and rage and dear god get the fuck away from me. I don’t know
if girls still try to invoke Bloody Mary at sleepovers or if they’ve
moved on to other forms of entertainment. I hope they have,
poor Bloody Mary, she just wants some sleep.
This is How You Remind Me
~ Nickelback
Everyone hates on Nickelback but when the song comes on
while I’m at PT half the room is singing along, the others
clearly mouthing the words as if afraid to make their voices
heard. I’m in the first group, singing along as I complete
the exercises required to keep my crooked spine loose.
I was 22 when the song came out and immediately I’m back
in my ’89 burgundy Mazda, windows rolled down, breeze
dancing through my thick hair as I sang along loudly, the wind
stealing my words. That summer I was in love and ready
to run away with the man who would spend the next seven
years breaking me. If I had listened to the lyrics, maybe
I would have saved myself: It’s not like you to say ‘sorry’ / I was
waiting on a different story / this time I’m mistaken / for giving you
a heart worth breaking. But I was 22—foolish and in love.
I wouldn’t have listened, even if it was me, traveling back
to save my younger self from myself. It doesn’t work that way
and now I’m 46 and in love with a better man and in weekly
PT to keep my middle-aged body moving as smoothly as possible.
My 22-year old self couldn’t have imagined this life. My 46-year old
self is grateful for the mistakes I made, the heartbreak I endured,
for the songs I sang at the top of my lungs on a sunny July day.
It’s not sunny or warm today but still when I queue the song,
I roll the windows down and once again let the wind steal
my words as I sing along.
Courtney LeBlanc is the author of the four full-length collections, most recently Her Dark Everything and Her Whole Bright Life (winner of the Jack McCarthy Book Prize). She is the Arlington County Poet Laureate Emerita and the founder and editor-in-chief of Riot in Your Throat, an independent poetry press. She’s also the founder of the Poetry Coven, a monthly generative workshop. She loves nail polish, tattoos, and a soy latte each morning. Find her online at www.courtneyleblanc.com. Her ideal vacation spot would be someplace with mountains to hike with her dogs, delicious food to eat, and a hammock to relax in each evening while she reads a book.
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