Cracked But Splendidly Whole

Poems of Public Transportation, the "Women Are Awesome" edition

Photo by Peter Kalonji on Unsplash. (I cropped it some, sorry Peter.)

A poem written in 2011, when I was still on that inbound bus every weekday morning, watching my fellow passengers get ready for their day.

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COMPACT							


Morning on the inbound city bus,
and across the aisle from me
a woman pulls out a compact
with a cracked mirror – 

not one simple crack, but a fan
curving from a point
of impact near the top edge.
She checks her lipstick, and I imagine

what sort of start it gives the day
to see your face broken into segments,
and then she digs out her mascara
and I start counting off seven years,

wondering how long she has had this compact
and how much bad luck might be left
to run; after all, a second or two
would be enough, when you’re waving

a small bristled wand next to your eyes
as the bus lurches from stoplight to stop – 
but just when my held breath husks
in my throat, she blinks, satisfied,

jams the wand into its bottle, thrusts
bottle and compact into her purse,
and pulls out her cell phone, and I sit back,
exhale relief.  Cracks by themselves, I think,

are not the curse, it’s only when broken pieces
scatter that the bad sets in; then I close
my eyes and spend the lurches between 
the next few stops giving silent thanks

for how many purse-worn compacts
holding together more than concave
cakes of powder, holding together
how many broken reflections

of women’s faces, cracked
but splendidly whole, lips glossy,
lashes blackened, vision intact,
on their way to work.

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[You can listen to an audio recording of the poem using the little widget above the photograph.]

I’m in awe of women and female-presenting persons who are skilled with make-up, who dress well, who slip on just the right earrings and scarf and set of bracelets as they’re heading out the door. They’ve got a level of confidence in their own visibility and self-presentation that I’ve never been able to muster; or if they don’t have it they’re dressing up in it, putting on confidence the way they put on lipstick or a favorite blazer, and rocking that look.

Sitting on the bus in the morning, watching people assemble themselves, you’re reminded of how many ways there are to be beautiful and how many ways there are to be brave. Insight and a dozen imagined stories for free, with your ride to work; it really is a deal.