Juliet Gelfman-Randazzo

my once a man twice a child era is rearing its baby-sized head

talking to mommy through my apple earbuds old school style
still linked by a grungy little gray gummy cord
as I take a loop around the town to see what’s up
on this gray heavy aired day. I’m in my archaic era!
I have been wearing my hair in little pigtail braids
and oversized pants with dorky sneakers and literally
my hoodie from middle school little league softball
which was oversized at the time but now fits me
perfectly in an intimate way. it says my name on it
in cursive. I’m in my better late than never era!
I am wearing colors again and I look five years
younger than I did in college when I had a hot bob
and wore all black. I convinced mom to come to philly
for her bday weekend instead of me coming to new york
because I am a child and that is what children do. how
is being twenty-five phenomenologically younger
than being twenty? I wonder if a philosopher can explain that.
I wonder what age I will be next. I suspect forty.
I’m in my age is but a number era! and I find numbers
hard to parse in prose. mom says when she was my age
her friends used to have to skip work cause their periods
were so bad and there wasn’t the type of birth control
we have now and also it cost so much to get tampons and pads
so that is one big difference between how they lived then vs
how me and my pals live now. I said “interesting!” as I scooped
up a bag of free yarn off someone’s stoop with a post-it that said
“brand new” and prayed a dog hadn’t peed on it. I’m in my
time is money era! mom is turning sixty in a month and a half
and I am turning into a little bitch. I said “I can’t wait to move
into my own place because I love living alone. Like, I don’t want
to talk to anyone,” and mom said “I actually know that;
you might recall I’ve lived with you before…”
I’m in my history repeats itself era! the air turns physical
and starts landing light punches on my head and shoulders. I say “mom,
I gotta go make some lunch! Have to head to class soon.”
She says “ok love you” and I say “ok love you” and then
I leave my little gummy earbuds in my ears the whole time
I fry an egg and I don’t even notice my ears are straining
against them to hear the pop and snap of the egg in the oil
in the pan because I waited for mom to hang up
because even though I almost live alone I still like it when
she does things for me that I am capable of doing myself