Proclamation
Dec 8 2025
At a certain age
a child can “emancipate” herself.
I’m not sure how old
or if there might be some kind of quiz
to test her maturity.
Which would be odd
considering you’re free to give birth
no questions asked.
“Emancipation”
which I thought was only slavery
but there you go.
It’s clearly a powerful word
and one I’d love to use for myself
— age notwithstanding.
To be released from my numerous flaws.
From my minor vices,
perhaps my major ones.
From the role I fill;
not sure
if it was given
or I gave it to myself
because I thought that was what they wanted.
And glory be,
from the thoughts
that circle endlessly
like snakes eating their tails.
If only once in a while,
when life gets hard
and I become too much
even for myself.
But back to the girl.
How horrible
her childhood must have been
to want so badly to leave.
To declare her parents unfit,
renounce her family,
and go out into the world
even more unformed
than young people normally do.
Or is her urgency just adolescent angst,
parents
too overwhelmed to cope?
But either way
how ecstatic it must feel
to proclaim yourself free.
I’m already on my own
and far too old for such legalities,
yet envy that watershed moment
in her young and promising life.
Which can only happen once
and too late for any of us;
too fixed in our ways,
too comfortably ensconced.
Too bent
under the weight of expectation
and the burden of care
to get a fresh start
. . . be born again
. . . reinvent ourselves.
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