#WonderWoman Poem By Carolyn Howard-Johnson: "My Woman-of-Steel Brand"

My mother Trudy Warren 8 months pregnant right after Hurricane Donna, Ft. Myers, FL

Perhaps I am remiss in not posting current national events and my relation to them as they happen. A couple weeks ago, I posted this poem by the extraordinary California poet, Carolyn Howard-Johnson about her inner "Wonder Woman." Now with Hurricane Irma bearing down on my hometown of Ft. Myers, I can't help but recall this picture my father took of my mother hauling away the multitude of fallen branches from the banyan tree we shared with our neighbors' yard. Eight months pregnant with my brother Monty. Mom played the piano the whole time the hurricane raged around our 2-story clapboard house. The tin roof blew off our neighbors' home behind ours. And they came into our house for protection during the calm of the Eye.

A toast to all Wonder Women everywhere. May your praises always be sung for your beautiful warrior spirits and loving ways.

You Think You Know Me Well

By Carolyn Howard-Johnson

I am Wonder Woman. You may have known 

me so long you remember

my original star-studded skirt

a la 1942 or still sigh over that skirt metamorphosed

to a bias-cut bikini singing

a patriot’s song to the female derrière
That would have been the same time 

it became hard to tell if I was born
to empower little girls or to mesmerize 

boys--the big ones and the small.

If that’s what you think

when you hear my name,
you’ve clearly not internalized
the idea of cruel waxing demanded by today’s
experts on grooming. (You should know

I didn’t do that. Somehow I was never convinced. 

Tights were another matter. I wore

them proudly--my woman-of-steel

brand-- lasso-wielding woman,

woman who bounced bullets
from magic cuffs, woman who didn’t need

D-cup implants
spilling out of her lamé bustier.