My Mother’s Alligator Pocketbook

 

gleams like high-gloss patent leather,

but don’t dare make that mistake,

these erratic ovoid squares once sheathed

exotic reptiles that slinked through sizzling tropic

climes before arriving at the Upper East Side

store where cousin Sandra (nee Sadie) referred

my mother, as if she needed the secret knock

to shop, humming Hernando’s Hideaway.

The pocketbook (nee purse) she wore to temple

on the High Holidays,

to the Philharmonic, the Metropolitan Opera

for those few short years

when Daddy could afford the tickets,

sitting in the Dress Circle, stroking

alligator on her lap, while diamond dangles

and sultry (nee feral) furs tickled her neck,

remembering, I imagine,

the soiled fingernails of children

sitting beside her on the piano bench

for the lessons she used to give

in her mother’s living room,

on the upright crammed beside the sofa

where, at night, my mother slept

whenever aunts and uncles, escaped

from Poland, usurped her bed

with their bony bodies, whispering in secret

torrents and barely muffled guttural grunts

behind her closed bedroom door.

 

 

Daddy secretly sold the diamonds,

then the furs when she wasn’t looking.

But my mother’s alligator pocketbook

still sleeps behind my bedroom door,

swathed in newborn-baby flannel. I carry it

to temple sometimes, even knowing, now,

about species in danger of extinction,

these particular predators long-since extinguished,

only their  sleek skins remaining

to remind me of my mother (nee woman, wife, lover),

sleeping all her life with one eye open,

watchful, ever watchful, as a reptile

in the risk-filled wild.

 

__________

 

Elizabeth Edelglass is a longtime fiction writer and book reviewer turned poet during pandemic isolation. Her short fiction has been widely published, winner of the Reynolds Price Fiction Prize, the William Saroyan Centennial Prize, the Lilith short story contest, and the Lawrence Foundation Prize from Michigan Quarterly Review. Her newborn poetry has appeared in more than twenty journals, was shortlisted for the Fish Prize, and won third prize in the Voices of Israel Reuben Rose Competition.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *