At a friend’s wedding, as she stood in her reception line, an older woman leaned in and whispered, “Always rinse your dishrag in cold water so it won’t stink.” Advice! Christine Stewart-Nuñez lives and teaches in South Dakota, and the following poem capturing her grandmother’s witty advice is from her book “Untrussed,” from the University of New Mexico Press.
For Elizabeth, Who Loved to Square Dance
I wore Grandma Liz’s pearls
for play, a plastic strand long
enough to pool on the carpet
over my stubbed toes. When I pull
them over my head now, I smell
phantoms: cigarettes, Esteé
Lauder. I don’t smoke or spritz
on perfume. I don’t layer polyester
or perm my hair. I’ve slipped off
my wedding ring as she did, signed
divorce. What advice would she offer
for life between husbands? Wear red
lipstick and always leave it behind.
Poem copyright 2016 by Christine Stewart-Nuñez, “For Elizabeth, Who Loved to Square Dance,” from “Untrussed,” (University of New Mexico Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of the author and the publisher. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. We do not accept unsolicited submissions.