I'm Waxing Poetic, Because Poetic is a Hairy Beast

Sometimes when I'm feeling particularly reflective or nostalgic, I think I'm waxing poetic. And then I stop being reflective and start thinking about "What does waxing poetic mean, exactly?" Oh, sure, it means you're feeling words of poetry about life in general, which probably means you're being sentimental and annoying. And the term was coined long before hair removers, I'm sure. But I do feel sorry for the term, just like I feel sorry for guys named "Dick". Might not have been a big deal in the 50's, but you just don't want to be referred to as "dick' anymore, and no one, god help us, is called "Pussy" either.

Poetic, In Need of Some Hair Removal

So what was I waxing on and off about? The 4th of July. It was my first holiday without the kids and I felt an intense sadness, not only for being without them, but for the loss of our family and the fantasy of a family. Even when I was the stay-at-home mom and cooking and had the husband and the kids, I still missed the fantasy. In my mind, there's an intense comfort in being a family that I never actually felt. But now I can't even pretend I have it, whereas before, I could at least make others believe I did. Now, it's clear, I'm a single mom...and there isn't really anything funny about that.

Sorrow lends itself to bad writing and poetry I think.

So here's a bad ode to the 4th of July. Read it out loud, and in your worst beatnik imitation:




O, day of birth for America

O, day we celebrate independence with hot


from the grille.

I love the explosions in the sky

It echoes the explosions

 of my heart when I think of


Yeah. Supremely bad poetry always makes me feel good. Now wax that Poetic. He needs it.