Married Women

What sociopathy from the modernist novels! You read Henry Miller and Camus and denied the obvious wisdom of the ancients, that all social relations are necessarily based on an omission and disavowal. That society is organized by way of constraint and sacrifice. That the innocence of children is circumstantial, by virtue of ignorance and not by goodness of nature. But you, who would seem to will ignorance… You never studied your folk etymologies, your vernacular truths, you ran around like a chicken with its head cut off pecking at nonexistent oppressions from a muscle memory trained for nonexistent revolutions. Where’s your head, child? The other end of a hoe’s blade. Now you say you want to sit and talk dirty about your Lost Generation like I was your priest at confession in a Left Bank cafe. And the non-ironic workers and washers, they are to be your backdrop. I’ll have no part of it. Put away your toys. Learn your folk etymologies and your vernacular truths, and stop trying to get a married woman to confess to being the Lindbergh baby. Sometimes we’re just married women.

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