Culture Clash
Dylan says
when I meet his mother today
I shouldn't mention
that I'm Jewish.
I say
okay, but can I
tell her about
the HIV postive thing?
He gives me a look.
I give him one back
I know this sounds incredibly lame,
but I don't want losing my virginity
to feel like I'm losing something.
I want it to feel like I'm finding something.
I want sex to be amazing.
I want it to be life-alteringly wonderful.
And I want it to happen with someone I love.
There’s something
so great about this,” she whispers.
About what?” I whisper back.
About this,” she whispers.
About being outlaws.
It’s just you and me—against the world.
Mots clés novel
But Lunch Isn't That Bad, Really
Once I get used to
having to eat with two people
instead of one.
Two people who have known each other
for such a long time
that they practically speak in code.
Two people who are always saying,
"Remember the time when this happened?"
and "Remember the time when that happened?"
(Which, of course,
I never do,
because I wasn't there.)
Well, okay,
it is that bad.
It sucks, even.
Mots clés friends memories lonely lunch left-out
Madame V
begins the lesson
by reading aloud the first stanza
of a famous French poem:
Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui penetre mon coeur?
Then she looks up
and without any warning
she calls on me to translate it.
I swallow hard, and try:
"It's raining in my heart
like it's raining in the city.
What is this sadness
that pierces my heart?"
Saying these words out loud,
right in front of the whole class,
makes me feel
like I'm not wearing any clothes.
Grace says, "Are you thirsty?
I could go get the hose..."
I say, "Thanks. But I'd rather have
a swig of some Miracle-Gro.
I wish he hadn't gone and cut his hair.
He looks about eight years old.
His ears have tripled in size.
Everyone's started calling him Dumbo.
Which wouldn't be so bad,
except they've started calling me
Mrs. Dumbo.
You can't even tell
he's got curly hair anymore.
There's nothing left
to run my fingers through.
Just this weird
blond AstroTurf
sprouting out of his skull.
We've turned off all the lights
in the living room
to make hand shadows.
We've got this
big flashlight
aimed at the wall.
I make the silhouette of my hand
into a duck.
Robin makes his into a rabbit.
Now my duck kisses his rabbit
And-POOF!- it turns into
a turkey.
And for some reason
this strikes us
as hysterically funny.
But you probably had to be there.
Walking with Murphy
through the bone-freezing chill
toward the bus stop,
I start shivering.
And somehow,
when he slips his arm around me
to warm me up,
it feels right.
Righter than anything ever has.
Mots clés romantic what-my-mother-doesn-t-know
Human beings tend to be conservative,
so if you lie, you'll probably be closer to the truth.
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