This latest coming-of-agefilm I’ve watchedis beautiful & poignant,like the others,but I want to seestories about girlsup there on the screen.Real girls, not mean girls.Not pink-sparkly girls,or crazy girls or princesses.Just regular girlsdoing ordinary kid things:traipsing woods, fishing,sharing secrets, swearingallegiance, running away,facing mortality, being hurt,learning Big Life Lessons.Why is that so hard to imagine?
I find it surprisingly difficult to write a protest poem in the spirit of Woody Guthrie for Susie’s prompt to the Real Toads. I revere Woody Guthrie (no surprise) and comparatively, this feels less than poetic. But this is something that’s been on my mind and I feel somewhat alone in my aggravation about it. So, here it is. #24 of 30 Poems In November to benefit Center for New Americans!