A teacher called me Helen Keller,
said she wanted to be my Annie Sullivan
and I wondered if it
was a compliment.
I think she meant she wanted to tame me.
(The Miracle Worker’s Breakfast Scene:
Annie straddles Helen as Helen shreds the air.)
She wanted to tame me,
evidenced by her voice slapping off walls
and pouring gravel into my brain,
her hands clapping in my face faster than an umbrella folding
when my eyes tried to swerve away from hers.
She wanted me to see:
I was a tapestry of bad cloth
to be unraveled piece by piece.
Luckily, she was no Annie Sullivan
and I closed my eyes:
see no evil.
This was written for the We Write Poems prompt Miracles. The word made me think immediately of the movie The Miracle Worker. I suppose the miracle in the poem is that I got out of that teacher’s class…