The Problem is I Know My Place

a poem

the problem is I know my place
and it’s not on a well-worn path
it’s on a stage
it’s covered in glitter
it’s dancing without alcohol

the problem is I know my place
and it’s not the place they want me to be in
it’s not a supporting role
to a husband
whose genius needs me to
cook and clean.

the problem is I know my place
and I’m okay with going there
I’m okay with
being yelled at, criticized, judged
told I’m wrong, that I’ll regret it
labeled shrill, crazy.

the problem is I know my place
and others like me know their place, too
they’ll decline
they’ll decide
they’ll wrinkle their nose and say
“thanks, but no thanks.”

the problem is we know our places
we just denied
for so long
what we knew inside to be true
news articles try to articulate
what should be in a poem—
this feeling, this undercurrent
a removal of doubt.

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