Spring 2008

 

POEM

 

 

I Promessi Sposi

 

 

I carry our unborn child

into the mustard yellow car you drive.

To the smell of mothballs on your jacket.

I carry our child to your words:

“Is two hundred dollars enough for an abortion?”

 

I carry my child to work at Bell Telephone:

from eight o’clock until five,

I wear two girdles to hide my stomach.

The company nurse says: “Why don’t you

give up your baby for adoption?”

 

I carry my child to the bridal shower.

My co-workers toast the bride.

Dinner and corsage at the Maritime Plaza Hotel:

crystal milk-and-sugar set wedding gift.

Don’t tell them I carry a child.

 

I carry my child to Sposabella.

Buy a silk taffeta wedding dress.

Lilies of the valley bridal bouquet.

Veil and short cotton gloves.

Carry the cardboard box home.

 

I carry my child to the hairdresser,

the night before our nuptials.

“Mio fratello,” your sister Concetta says.

“My brother left town.”

“Puttana Ungherese!” she adds. “Hungarian whore!”

 

I carry our child from my parents’‚ house.

Don’t tell them: “I am getting married.”

I carry my child to the night wedding.

The priest doesn't say:

“You may now kiss the bride.”

 

 

Ilona Martonfi

Our Social Links

 

 

Advertisement

 

 Forthcoming: Spring 2018. Click to order

Accenti Comment Guidelines
We welcome and encourage discussion and debate on the articles published on our website. We reserve the right to refuse to post or remove any content that is racist, sexist, or homophobic in nature, or which promotes any form of intolerance and hatred. We also reserve the right to remove content which otherwise promotes or endorses a product or service.


Home | Submissions | Writing Contest | Photo Contest | Store | Media Kit

P. O. Box 91510, RPO Robert Montreal, Quebec Canada, H1R 3X2 T. 514-329-3254 F. 514-329-4085

We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Periodical Fund of the Department of Canadian Heritage.