I AM A WOMAN, GROWING OLD
I Am A Woman, Growing Old
And I woke up one day
And I was old.
The skin on my chin: pulled
like a baggy scrotal sac on him.
Sagged, like the labia between her legs
Raggy, like his inner 47 year-old elbow folds.
Old. We are getting
Tired and less tight.
The hairs on her head: greying
Drying out, products betraying
Made her think she could be young again
He pays good money for his hair dying.
Unknown. Did we know:
This was how it was going to roll?
Women lose their figure
Men look more regal.
Women no longer reproducing
Men can keep procreating.
Like PMS meant for us to ‘forgive’
One bitchy time out of the month.
Suggests us women should be nice
Every other day and all around.
Like society suggesting she’s less ‘rounded’
Because she’s never been a mother.
Forgetting the time it takes to be
the Yoga Teacher, the Poet & the Potter.
While men still have the power
They don’t want to extinguish it.
If aging makes me less a woman
Does our strength lay in relinquishing?
As young girls, surrender was sexy
With wisdom, it’s pathology.
And after all your make-up’s gone
And the hair and dye has fallen out and off
And cataracts, and whiskers in places
And the skin leaves its aging traces…
When all the cosmetic cover ups
And padding, and fabrics that suck in and tuck
As toenails get thicker and arthritis pains
And hips are replaced with canes…
Will it matter so much
What you look like, dear?
What’s more attractive
Is the story of how you got here.
And I woke up one day
And I was old.
And I wanted to reach out for the phone
To tell you aging women have it hard!
To tell you that the Yoga Teacher and the Potter
Have beautiful men who love them!
They thrive, I know it, because they’re supported
I am on my own, without even parents!
But we don’t talk so much no more
And so, I am left to my own devices.
So instead I watch the Yoga Teacher and the Potter
They have ideas and good guidance.
The one teaches #selfcareisnotselfish
While managing her aches and brain pains.
The other one told me about the Californian desert
While making pots and cups and singing in bands.
And there are ones who lost a daughter
Another who lost her son
The one who fucked off Cancer
And the one with the Maui garden.
And the one who says “get out of your head at once!”
So I will wake up tomorrow
Feeling all the more wiser
With a way forward into my 40s
A new woman with more answers!
And I woke up one day
And I was old
Only because I’m awake
to our world gone cold.
And the worst part about it
Wasn’t the way I looked
It’s that I was still,
in life
too immature
to realize it’s ALL one big struggle!
So for aging men and aging women,
I’m up, throwing on my shower cap
Shower, underwear and my blazer!
After all, I must try to look my best on my start
Over the other side of the hill
On my Death March.
No, no, don’t give me your sympathy
At least I know where I’m going!
This is Mm Mm Mm so good for me
It said so on the packaging
Right there, see:
Right here, next to
the expiry …
© Sylvie Hill 2014
ART: dixon / “Truth vs Lies” / enamel on canvas / 30x80cm