How To, Francesca Block [sight word readers TXT] 📗

Francesca Lia Block

How to (Un)cage a Girl

for the girls

Contents

Part 1: Years at the Asylum

Thirteen: The Little Oven

Fourteen: Europa

Fifteen: The Canyon

Popular Girl

Sixteen: First time

Seventeen: War

Eighteen: Monster

Nineteen: The Asylum

A Myth of Love for Girls

Part 2: In the Lair of the Toxic Blonde

Lost in Los Angeles

Toxic Blonde

Media Queenz

Duty: For Sofia

Vampire in the City of Lost

L.A. Bacchantes

People’s Park (Escape to the North)

Like Pretty

My Love

Part 3: Love Poems for Girls

For the Girls

Pain is Like an Onion

Ornate

Teenage Fairy: For M

The Little Mermaid: For Ama

Neptune’s Daughter

Miniature Mouse

For Valentina

Valentina Screama

As I Remember it: For Lily

For Karen: Whose Last Name I can’t Recall

Joanna: Wood Thorn Fairy

Selene: The dress with the Cigarette Burns

How to Become a Priestess

Gretel Finds her Way

Collage

Miranda

Fairy Sisters: For Sukha

Happi Happi Joy Joy and Sad in Hawaii

Yxta

Titania

The Face

Valentine

The Three Graces

A Half Imagined History: For O

Forty-five Thoughts for My Daughter and My Virtual Daughters

How to (Un)cage a Girl

About the Author

Other Books by Francesca Lia Block

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

PART 1

years at the asylum

thirteen: the little oven

i thought my teacher was a nazi

with hair slicked to the side

short and germanic

he lectured about hitler

spittle

in his voice

boys with greasy scalps

drew cartoons of me

with a witch’s nose

my body was so thin

i had chopped off

my pretty brown hair

my skin charred and blistered

red bumps broke out

there was blood between my legs

is this junior high school?

hell?

or somewhere worse?

fourteen: europa

in florence i saw the most beautiful

man in the world

standing by the botticelli

birth of venus

as if the painting had split open to deliver him

he even smiled at me

white teeth golden cheekbones

on the top of the hill was david

huge marble perfection

exposing his penis to me alone

can you imagine in america

god made flesh

but without the blood or loincloth?

by the trevi fountain in rome

pan himself made an appearance

curls and a gap between his teeth

when he grinned at me

a hairy, cloven mystery

lurking

in his jeans

the hotel overlooked a square

the walls were thick and ghost

white with moonlight

shadows streaked the room

i woke to hear my father growling to my mother

“get onto me”

and saw their bodies moving in the bed

beside my tiny single

cot

that was when i too turned to stone

my mouth sealed shut

they packed me up and took me off to greece

to introduce me to some marble goddesses

without pubic hair

as if that might make me feel better

my parents with good intentions

rolled their new caryatid onto the white sands

of the beach

a million perilous pulverized

petals of pearl

the water was such a sheer blue

you could see right through it

to the wavy patterns on the ocean floor

like aphrodite’s hair

i knew i should be grateful for this opportunity

to see the birthplace of the goddess

but how could i ever speak of it?

the greek boys came to play with me

they frolicked around

brown and curly full of life

when night fell and the ouzo glasses

lit up like lanterns in the taverna

my mother said, “kiss him, darling, it’s easy

so natural”

and i thought to myself, not with lips of stone

dear mother

not with lips of stone

fifteen: the canyon

steamy hot night in the eucalyptus rainwater-forged

canyon my friend and i discovered a ruined house

the wildflowers growing over the foundation and a

silver ring with a king a queen a snake and a rose

then as we walked home a boy on a motorcycle

zoomed to a halt leonine face tall rambling body

somehow the next thing i remember he was sliding

his hands up and down my legs i hadn’t shaved and

was prickly but he didn’t seem to mind later we

kissed in my friend’s shag-carpeted bedroom with

the water bed and beanbag chairs his hands moved

higher i wonder where the parents were i know a

few months later my mom dropped me off at his

apartment in west hollywood his mother was gone i

imagined she was very beautiful young and blond

maybe in the sex industry no father and i was

wearing tight jeans and a floral crepe blouse with

fake pearl buttons and when he kissed me he said i

tasted like garlic from the bagels i’d eaten with my

parents at brunch this he minded though he did let

me touch his penis and then i left that is all i

remember though i think once in a disco parking lot

i saw him again but nothing happened why do i

remember only certain details and really the main

question is where was my mother?

popular girl

who are you?

(you are not like me)

where do you come from?

who are your parents?

what does your mother look like?

and your father—how does he make money?

to pay for those jeans? those shoes?

and what about your hair

it is all about the hair

you cannot be one without good hair

with frizz or split ends

what kind of shampoo do you use?

what does your hair smell like?

it is long and shines

is there a rule about pimples?

you never have pimples

why not?

are your hormones different?

are you an alien?

what are you going to be when you grow up?

are you still going to be beautiful

with good hair?

even when you die?

are you still going to be mean?

are you going to be a beautician, wife or realtor?

cosmo cover girl? queen?