The Servant

When I retell stories or movie plots

in my head now, to fall asleep at night,

I am the servant. There won’t be abuse

or erotic entanglement. I will model

brave and upright behavior, service

that humbly teaches those in power

how to use it well. I will not pretend

to be stupid. I will help solve problems.

I will help in all the ways. I am glad

to bring comfort to the old woman

worried about her dresses, jewels,

and ongoing income, rightful share

of her cousin’s estate. I am glad

to comfort, delight, and educate

the children of the widower,

and he doesn’t have to marry me,

just pay me and treat me well,

according to our agreement.

This is how I have changed.

Once, I was the nighttime heroine,

the ingénue, the princess, and now

I am the servant, understanding

the world. If I was naïve,

I am still naïve. Power does not

reward those it crushes

with anything but blood, yes,

but fortunately, I do not seek

reward, only to be who I am

and what I am, relentlessly,

until I sleep.

— Babs