Teaching My Daughter

The library book was about a girl
who dressed like a boy so she could be
a glass blower. She fooled them all
and the glass she blew was magical.

My daughter was young enough that it may
have been her first time hearing that girls
aren’t supposed to do some things boys do:
Monsters exist, but don’t be afraid of them.

Here are the jobs they had for you:
secretary, nurse, waitress, prostitute,
maid, stewardess, model, receptionist,
ballerina, princess, queen, fairy.

I never had to wear a fake beard.
When I said in school I wanted to be
a scientist, no one looked at me like
I’d said something unexpected.

I hope she won’t like the story about
the girl glass blower. I hope she blames
the father who said “who ever heard
of a girl glass blower?” instead of the world.

Most of all, I hope I never have to find
the fire under her bed, the pipe nearby,
and a heap of shattered glass bottles
lying beside the fake mustache and the glue.