Poem – “Stuck On a Boat With a Soccer Mom” by Helen Estrada

Lizard brain, words are not enough.
You think your soccer mom status gets you far.
Your Gucci, Prada and Manolos walk their way thru chocolate bullshit,
And your plastic smile gleams of cottage cheese lies.
Is there anything going on in that haze of tried genius,
Or are you as thick as your husband’s hard-on for me?
The iciness of your bleak eyes don’t fool
The minority, the oppressed, and the poor.
They are just numbers going head-to-head with your son’s application to Yale.

You stab and prod, and poke and lift, and sift and cake, and fake
Until you fill that empty space–
Not the one between your legs that your husband isn’t serving,
Not the one that your son rejects he came from.
The one that eats you alive at night when you wince in your sleep for the soul you no longer keep–
As you choke on the mud that drips from your teeth
As you suck ‘Bordeaux’ and swallow foie gras.
Even your skin wishes to escape you.
When you walk, it cries and screams and shoots flare guns for rescue
Because not even your skin can stand your fakeness.
Revolting, revolting, revolting is your tongue.
Even it wishes to spit itself out and crawl to an honorable master.
You’re so boring with your stories of faux fame and fucking.
HA! As if any noble steed dare mount!

And me.
Look at me.
More woman than you’ll ever be.
With tits to the wall and spirit made of spit.
I sit here and ask myself:
How’d you ever make it this far?


About the Author

Helen Estrada is a distracted writer who currently lives in Malibu, California with the Party Animals (wiener dogs: Albert and Nestor and a beta fish called Frankie) where she tirelessly hunts for mermaids and giant squid. Her poetry has been published in Unbound and Beacons Beyond. You can find her at: www.facebook.com/helenmestrada