My mother wants me to complete

the task my father has assigned —

a list for the males-only club

he leads.  He is watching

the news.  I refuse.

She’s not using Word;

he’s downloaded a free

alternative I don’t know.

When I peer over her shoulder,

she leaps up, urging me

to take the keyboard, but I’ve sat

through too many ceremonies watching

him take all the glory

alone in the spotlight with tearjerking

humility.  This time I smile gently

and say no.  I value

myself today.  Feeling worthy

as I walk to my porch-oasis

— under their stunned accusing

glares, overhearing his grumbled

opposition to her choice of font —

to write poetry

they will never hear

even if my voice is crystal clear.

Inspired by: Oasis