News can be fascinating.
Recently, there has been pressure on the Augusta National Golf Club – the club that brings us the Masters – to finally allow women within their membership. This was such exciting news. Until, I looked at my calendar and realized it was 2012, for Christ’s sake. How is this “women in the club” not already a thing? I was suddenly struck with a lot of feelings. Naturally, I wrote a poem.
It’s clear you’ve been struggling
with so much to consider
An accountant’s mind,
beaming success at smaller numbers
A neat ledger
The height of the grass
the condition of your clubs
With each step
your audience holds praise
breath stopped cold in their mouths
Their admiring silence
your companion on the green
your daughter worries the results
of her annual exam. Her
pregnancy test. The availability of
her birth control. Whether or not
she will be forced to excuse the
violence of her peers as deserved.
She does not desire your sport
realizes young she will spend
too much of her life
competing with its privilege
Young men and then
older men, too
Already dismissive of
acting as only another inconvenience
to this otherwise clear,
day for a game.