Sarah: Plain, Tall, and Just Plain Over It

I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do

I’m not going to be getting off this train

To go marry a man

I’ve yet to meet in person

I probably should have mentioned that

Before I got on the train

But honestly

I wanted to see what it would feel like

Riding a train

Going cross country

Flirting with matrimony

And now that I’ve done all that

I don’t see the point

In actually going through with it

From what I gather

This man

Has children

And a home

That is not a mansion

And chores for me to do

And not one part of that

Sounds appealing to me

It’s not that I mind

A good hard day’s work

But only to my own benefit

Not for the sake of a man

Who’ll simply sit at the dinner table every night

Expecting a warm meal

And freshly-sewn clothes

For his children

While he stares off into space

Wondering whether he’ll die of an infected prairie bite

Or a bad batch of corn pudding

No thank you

Very much
I’ll pass

I may be plain and tall

But at least I’m not short

And stupid

Pretty women might fall

For this sort of thing

A man eager to marry

And property

To his name

But I see a future

Where women will be able

To own their own property

I suppose it’s probably

Only a year or two away

And then what a fool I’d have been

Shacking up with some man

Who will add me to his list

Of assets

Then when he dies

I’ll be expected to mourn forever

And sit in a rocking chair

Yammering on to myself

Like a lunatic

While the tumbleweeds roll by

I don’t suppose

There will be any books

Or paintings

Or intellectual stimulation

Of any kind

If I’m lucky

He’ll be able to belch

Billy Barlow

Every night

As the fire dies down

As a woman in this day and age,

I don’t expect my existence

To be some glittering

Musical

Fantasy

But I’ll be damned

If I don’t give myself

A sporting chance

At something better

So I’m getting off at the next stop

And if anyone asks who I am

I’ll tell them

I’m one of those women

With a crystal ball

Who can see into the future

They’ll either burn me at the stake

Or make me their god

But either way

It’ll be better

Than babysitting rutabagas

For the rest of my life

The man will find another wife

Maybe a glamorous one this time

Someone who can teach his daughter

How to apply make-up

And his son

How to treat a lady on a date

He’ll be happy

And the children will be happy

And I’ll be very happy

Set up in a storefront somewhere

Telling pioneers

All about how they’re going to die

Just by looking at the cards

In front of me

And all the while

I’ll be hearing train whistles

Off in the distance

And I’ll smile

Knowing none of them

Are meant

For me