That is, explicate (explain the poem; translate it into prose) how to chang the poem to proes dusting julia alvarez each morning i wrote my name on the dusty cabinet, then crossed the dining table in script, scrawled in capitals on the backs of chairs, practicing signatures like scales while mother followed squirting linseed from a burping can into a crumpled-up flannel. she erased my fingerprints from the bookshelf and rocker, polished mirrors on the desk scribbled with my alphabets. my name was swallowed in the towel with which she jeweled the table tops. the grain surfaced in the oak and the pine grew luminous. but i refused with every mark to be like her, anonymous.