Ode to Nonpeople

 

A mistake by birth

Born to parents

Who didn’t want

Children;

The responsibility

Of your care

Is dutifully born.

To survive,

You become

Invisible.

You become

A nonperson.

As a nonperson,

You attend school,

But somehow they miss

Your name when

Calling role.

You’re not chosen

On school teams.

Teachers don’t notice

Your meek attempts

To raise your hand.

You blend well

Into walls,

Chairs, and desks.

The praise you receive

            Is criticism,

So you accept it.

Your consistant B+ work

Makes you a

            Nonachiever;

Your academic struggles

Are faintly recognized

At graduation with

A $100 PTA

“scholarship.”

The nonperson

Enters the adult world

On firmer footing.

Other people begin

To see you—

You are

            Nice.

You listen well.

They tell you

Their woes.

Men like you,

You know how to be

            A buddy.

You blend in well

With cocktails

Peanuts

And dipl.

You are neat,

Somewhat attractive,

Not a showpiece—

            Will do.

The nonperson

Has to learn to be

Self-sufficient

For you know

your position in life

precludes you

from expecting

anything from people.

You’ve become a

            Carpenter

            Plummer

            Painter

            Cook

            Housekeeper

            Breadwinner

            Seamstress

            Wallpaper hanger

            Carpet cleaner

            Hairstylist

            Psychiatrist

            Musician

            Artist

            Poet.

All at the

Nondismay

Of those around you.

Your name

Is still missing

From membership roles.

Your former lovers

Forget your name

When they run

Into you at parties.

Your better-than-average

Performance

Under the covers

Causes your partner

To fantasize

That the other woman

He’s in love with

Were as good as you.

He dates you

Because he wishes

She had your

            Qualities.

Men like you

Because you’re nice

And you are

An easy convenience.

Because you’re not

            Demanding

You are thought of

Only when they’re

Ready for a good time.

You are a good

            Diversion

            A fantasy.

A nonperson

Is not here.

Only sometimes.

A nonperson

Lives only

In their mind.

A nonperson

Cannot be loved

Cannot be cared for

Cannot be desired.

A nonperson

Cannot be seen

Until others

Are ready for you.

In the end,

Your name

Will be inadvertently

            Omitted

From the obituaries.

But, who will know?

Furthermore,

Who will care?

 

 

B. Benjamin

Free verse

Bbp111