what they told us

by Kathleen Walker

They told us that we should never cross the street without looking twice. They told us to intertwine our fingers if we wanted to fuck. They told us that the quarry was for drinking in. They told us not to stay past sunrise. They told us to peel our boiled eggs with silver spoons. They told us to kiss with our mouths closed. They told us to dip our barren ink cartridges into lukewarm bowls of water to revive them. They told us not to speed past the 45 sign on Tiger Blvd. They told us to pray before we ate. They told us to sip vitamin C when we were sick. They told us to get jobs. They told us to get the right jobs. They told us to keep our hands to ourselves. They told us to fall in love. They told us to change our air filters every 60 days. They told us to wear dresses past our knees. They told us to vote. They told us to get a dog. They told us to get a big dog with vicious teeth. They told us to listen when others speak. They told us to learn the subtle art of no. They told us to shout emphatic yes. They told us to carve crooked faces into warty pumpkins. They told us to sell lemonade for spare change. They told us not to get gas from the station wedged between the Dairy Queen and Bojangles. They told us to have sex. They told us to stay chaste. They told us to always kiss our mothers goodbye. They told us to wear long sleeves in the winter. They told us to go catfishing in the spring. They told us to spend money. They told us to save up for rainy days. They told us to be grateful. They told us to be restless. They told us to eat balanced meals. They told us to smile at police officers. They told us to trust cowboys for help. They told us to leave our sinks dripping when it froze. They told us to buy our car parts from Mac’s. They told us to drink less soda. They told us to meet a nice boy. They told us to pick out wedding dresses. They told us to catch fireflies in mason jars. They told us to make art. They told us to get older quicker. They told us to stay babies always. They told us to get up early to watch the sunrise. They told us to find hard gentle hands to tuck between our legs. They told us to carry it, to carry all, to carry each other. They told us to get up, get old, get it together. They told us to love clumsy, keen, and warm.