Crooked Feet

Her feet didn't look right.

She had five kids and they all escaped the foot curse

but her,

she had one walker that seemed like it was 

always thinking about something not in the conversation,

like it was trying to run away from the work camp

where she was raped over and over

for not having a boyfriend

or a house,

(we gave her a house.)

(we painted it mint green.)

Stephania came from one of those men,

though she was a far cry from the torment of her mother's womb.

"Hermana" - all hugs and braiding my hair,

because hers had all been shaved off

because the kids in the villiage all got lice.

She helped me pick nails up from the dirt/dust

to give to the men pounding nails

into the frame of her mother's new 3-room house.

(the husband came back after we built it.)

(he married the mom later in life)

(he came back when there was less work to be done.)

You know, in Canada,

if someone is born with a thinking foot,

we go all sorry-complex over it.

"Oh my word, someone screwed her foot on the wrong way!!"

"Chiquita, we're going to get you a new foot.

Here is a nice man named Doctor. He's going to

fix it for you.

So sorry!"

And so I could never quite figure out how

crooked foot = vagina anihilation.