Self Portrait as Illusion

Poetry, Nancy Issenman

My father didn’t die when I was 14.

He was just sleeping. And

while he was sleeping I didn’t

witness my mother marry again, too

soon after. I didn’t notice her move

another man into her bed. One day

there he was in his boxers, bloated belly

and skinny legs. I did not see my father

in him.

I never heard my stepfather say–

you…you were meant for pleasure.

He didn’t mean that a girl just wants

to have fun. And I didn’t tell him

my kind of fun was kissing girls. My mother

did though. He didn’t take it well. I didn’t

watch him yell and bang his fists on the table

in the restaurant near Big Sur years after

my father had fallen asleep.

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Nancy Issenman, a Jewish, queer writer, lives on unceded Lekwungen territory, aka Victoria BC. Her poems appear or will appear in Room, League of Canadian Poets (Poem in your Pocket and Poetry Pause) Scrivener Creative Review; her story is published in don’t tell: family secrets (Demeter Press,) and plaque with her poem was installed in Alta Lake Park after winning the Whistler Poetry Pause prize, 2024