Deborah Bacharach
At Seventeen, the Goddess
Starts College
Venus can't help her zitted cheeks.
In a faux leather leotard with hard nubs
of glitter she performs
a round-off back hand spring. She's made
the intermediate team.
She could pass global studies, even learn
if she bottled up giggle fits.
She says she loved Hawaii for its Asian majority.
She could walk there brown skinned, beautiful.
The oldest banyan tree in Hawaii holds
royal balls (Venus could have waltzed here),
shades the vendors (Venus could have slept),
sleeps the homeless (Venus could have
stroked each cheek calm). Every sunset
a riot as the birds return to sleep.
It grew this way of its own accord.