Moon Landing
By
J.Lois Diamond
Fifty years ago
I’m small and petite.
“One small step for
a man”, the google
doodle broadcasts,
“One giant step for mankind”,
Yet,
for me, that night
will always be
summer camp,
a pack of boys
creeping after me at night, in
the field, throwing me
to the ground
prying me apart
“One small step”
I remember laughter
“for a man”, and the rallying cry
from one to
“Get her in the cunt,
Kushner”.
“One giant leap”
That same summer
larger girls, my bunk mates
develop a curiosity
of the female form,
“One small step”
So each grabs a leg
“for a man”
an arm and splay me
apart,
“A giant leap”
Too squeamish to
examine themselves.
“for mankind”
This is before
the release of
Our Bodies, Ourselves.
The astronauts have landed
so the camp routine is gone
The counselors run off,
smoke weed, make out
leave us alone
to make mischief
The eagle has landed
They say lunar dust
has a smell of
ash, gunpowder, and metal
an acrid odor not unpleasant
but to me, it smells like
fear, shame, and an unarmed sense of
being permanently marooned