LESLEY WHEELER

Month: June 2018

  • Not fleeing

    When I was eleven, I started to plot my escape. Financial independence seemed like the prerequisite, but the 50 cents an hour I earned babysitting weren’t going to take me far. So, baby steps. I started by purchasing my own shampoo and toothpaste, keeping them separate from the family stuff. I figured I’d gradually work […]

  • #RedHen

    You’d Better Believe These Rhymes Are Slant Inspired by the co-owners and staff of the Red Hen Restaurant This sonnet politely requests the entire Trump administration to leave the establishment. It’s the seizing of children from migrant parents, the cages and proposed internment camps, that curdle the cream and knock the meter wobbly. I lack […]

  • Paternity suit

    Father’s Day used to be a hard one. When my father was alive, I knew he wanted to be fussed over, but he was an unpredictably mean-spirited person who’d praise my intelligence one minute and mock me the next for my unattractiveness, my career choices, or my politics–and he was doing the same to my […]

  • Hundred-year nap

    For the last week, I’ve lived in the land of the long blink. We arrived home eight days ago from the aforementioned intense trip to Europe, and I dutifully took sunlit walks to reset my body clock, swallowed melatonin at the appointed hours, and vigorously swept out my email inbox–begone, reference letters and peer review!–while […]

  • Venus/ dodo

    I didn’t even know the Venus of Willendorf inhabited Vienna’s Natural History Museum when deciding to spend our last afternoon in the city there. My son was weary of paintings, so while Madeleine and Chris headed to the Leopold Museum, Cam and I staggered through flocks of taxidermied rare and extinct animals. The museum was […]