jacqueline morgan

Words By Which I’m Known

Jacqueline (JACK-UH-LIN, Zhah-KLEEN)

French; “One who wrongfully takes the place of another”

There’s something terribly absurd about
the whole ordeal,
dressed in your smart little pink suit and
matching pillbox hat
as you peel the remnants of your husband’s skull
off the back of the Lincoln Continental—
strength and composure, even when
the call for decorum is gone.

Jackie’s 21st-century equivalent is a
sorry excuse for a woman,
the supplanter of yore
snatching what little spotlight she can
from the friend she knows is shy,
standing tall as she does so,
like Camelot weathering a storm
while an army of one clashes at her feet.

Grace (GRAYS)

Latin; “Goodness, generosity” or “Elegance, refinement”

Flashbulbs popping, the hot whirr of the projector screen and
the light patch of dew on your brow.
A lady glistens, never sweats,
your mother says
as you board the SS Constitution
from New York to Monaco.

I won’t say that what my mother thinks
matters much now.
I’ll live up to my namesake
in the wake of all her Facebook posts,
neck coated in bronzer
as she poses with a man who’s
not my dad.
Do as I say, not as I do,
parents so love declaring.
I’ll rise above her, though
she’s the one who named me.

Morgan (MOHR-guhn)

Welsh; “Sea-born”

Here comes Camelot, again
a strange sort of symmetry,
one my parents could hardly have predicted,
a name bookended by impenetrable castles
and moats of green sea glass.
How were they surprised I grew up
romantic with a capital R,
the sensitive type to notice such things
but also the type to remember
the prom date who said I was aloof
or the play director who claimed I didn’t emote
when all along I’ve grown up from the ground,
my toes wriggling in the sand as
golden sun warmed my face
Stony and sea-born once
but hardly chained to a family name like
a princess to a tower or
a titan to a rock.