makes cupcakes out of kerosene
and frosts them with a cigarette lighter.
What that girl won't do next.
It was nobody's birthday,
but still--
the mix, the bowl, the eggs with their soulful yellow eyes.
Siobhan picks up frequencies in her fingers.
If she boxes your ears,
you'll hear music.
Everybody out,
the food is on fire!
But wait...
wait...
the only way out is to overspill our sweet white skins.
Siobhan the neighborhood Goddess
is an Irish girl.
Cops and firefighters jump from every picture frame.
Now comes the miracle--
the little paper baking cups in their thousands
rise as fire birds!
Siobhan lifts her hands,
and they recognize their song
at once.
_______
image by laurent chehere.
Such vivid and surreal images in this--and the conflagration is internal as well as external, maybe even eternal. There always seems to be a miracle hanging around these catholic girls somewhere...even if sacrificing the cupcakes seems to hark back to a slightly more Celtic interpretation.
ReplyDeleteLove, love, love this! Maybe because I tend to have the same results when baking, lol, though not intentionally!
ReplyDeleteIt's always somebody's birthday!
ReplyDeleteThat chick is HOT!!!
ReplyDeleteEons ago I had a friend named Siobhan ... she was a Goddess.
ReplyDeleteCould I hire her to make my birthday cake next Jan.? It'll be my 50th so she can really have some fun with it!
ReplyDeleteargh, i *always* burn the cupcakes. i should just own my cupcake-burning!
ReplyDeleteSome Choice: stay in the fire or exit the skin! or call on Siobhan and get to fly? I just want the cupcake.
ReplyDeleteWhimsical and yet serious at the same time, or at alternating points.
ReplyDeleteI adore "the eggs with their soulful yellow eyes."
"Siobhan picks up frequencies in her fingers.
If she boxes your ears,
you'll hear music." Hilarious.
"Everybody out,
the food is on fire!
But wait...
wait...
the only way out is to overspill our sweet white skins." A bit of whimsy, but then serious.
Bravo, Shay!
What a dream like quality to this poem. A bit scary, too!
ReplyDeleteWhoa. There is no reigning you in. Not that we'd want to. I dont believe this. Every day, another amazement - for THREE ENTIRE YEARS?
ReplyDeleteGorgeous, Shay!
ReplyDeleteFiery cupcakes, yes, please.
ReplyDeleteDo you like Lydia Loveless? I feel you do/would.
burnin' down the house indeed! Did you wake up and jot down a dream? :) Crazy fun, this. And I never use those paper liners... perhaps I should.
ReplyDeleteGotta say I LOVE Catblossom as an art critic! I feel there is a poem there. Or perhaps all that needs to be said is there, in her eyes. ;P
Siobhan, keeping normalcy on its toes. The world could do with a few more Siobhan's...
ReplyDeleteShay, freakishly fun. The whole idea of a neighborhood witch, like every town has one... and of course, she's Irish, like me, and I'll bet she is immune to the Black and Tan "this side or that"! The flames, the firefighters, oy. Mad creative! Love, Amy
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.com/2013/02/12/lion-hearted-man-rip-marques-bovre/
Oooh! The little paper cups transform into firebirds! I love it - you do magical realism like nobody else.
ReplyDeleteFell in love with the character from the first line. Awesome write.
ReplyDeleteI didn't know you were writing an autobiography....lol. This was stunning, I like Siobahn my kind of girl...creative as hell as usual.
ReplyDeleteI love the eggs with soulful yellow eyes!
ReplyDeleteThis is the one I mentioned when we were e-mailing the other day---the one I loved so much. There is very little I wouldn't stick in a favorites list, but I just love these:
ReplyDelete"makes cupcakes out of kerosene
and frosts them with a cigarette lighter"
"the mix, the bowl, the eggs with their soulful yellow eyes" Goodness, I love this line, particularly the yellow eyes.
"Siobhan picks up frequencies in her fingers"
Love all your weird conceptuals. She is bizarre indeed. I liked that you made her a fiery Irish girl. :)
More great stuff:
"overspill our sweet white skins"
"Cops and firefighters jump from every picture frame"
"the little paper baking cups in their thousands
rise as fire birds" My favorite image!
Until this, of course. This gives me chills:
"Siobhan lifts her hands,
and they recognize their song
at once."
Superb!