by Spencer Silverthorne

 

I remember learning the word condone
when a devout family member declared

shame at a third cousin’s baby shower.
Folks thought television trashed respectability 

by making families fear their image.
I confused my manners with silence

by polishing for every Saturday’s roast
as if I demonstrated some belief

in grace and fealty. I was left alone,
which made me want to star in movies

where I’m kidnapped, and then rescued
by a disgraced officer; where I’m crying

in the courtroom, while I’m lifted
onto the shoulders of a social worker;

where I’m orphaned to get rich quick; 
where I lose all my pets in the process;

where I run away to a suite on 34th Street;
where I learn how to fight or kiss in Paris.

Filmmakers know what to do with sin,
and it made more sense than relatives

who’d deploy the use of condoning
the dissonance between the sacred

and the profane, as a way to keep
dinner conversation riveting

between mashing the boiled peas
with baked potato – a palatable feast. 

 

Spencer Silverthorne is an Assistant Professor of English at the University of North Carolina at Pembroke where he teaches poetry, editing, and composition. His work has been published in Action, Spectacle, Black Warrior Review, Maudlin House, Screen Door Review, and elsewhere. He lives in Fayetteville, NC.