Monday, July 13, 2015

Internet Date

Out in one of those western states where nobody lives,
she clawed her way out of the dirt where I had buried her
during a desperate fit,
under a vulture sun.

Everybody out there has got a gun, and so did the lonesome rancher
she first kissed after spending the night in his pick up truck.
She fed him his own bullets like candies
and charged him for them, too.

Sweet girl.

She has your barbed bones, but her heart is a rattle gourd.
Out there, she got fat on the stupid and the slow,
then starved herself down to a focused edge.

Today, at the bottom of a drawer, I found the kimono I bought 
in the hopes that you would like me in it.
I never wear it anymore, 
not after the anthill ceremony you call fun.

Returning home, I took love out to the yard and chopped its head off,
fed it to silence, to injury, and to hopelessness.
It refused to die, but became something else--
this girl-- so I poisoned her with your every word and 
left her in the desert.

Now she's awake,
headed east,
one lung full of stacksmoke and the other collapsed and dying,

but still able to articulate her wild hatred and intention
for both of us.
_____

for Mag 278.

 

18 comments:

Sioux said...

The "ant ceremony" does NOT sound like fun. Not fun at all.

hedgewitch said...

Terrifying, and like Dr Jekyll and his soul-brother, Dr Frankenstein, all the more so because one has created it oneself. Really, every line here builds the picture of something inhuman built from human remains--one of your very best, in my opinion. Phrases like 'vulture sun' 'barbed bones' and 'rattlegourd' really bring the images into glaring, unholy life.

Helen said...

Poem is 'out there' in the best way ~~~ 'out there she got fat on the stupid and the slow, then starved herself down to a focused edge' ~~~ favorite line!

Berowne said...

Whew... Dynamic, powerful, highly effective.

shampoo girl said...

Crap, I love you. I will say this again: THIS is now my favorite poem.

"She fed him his own bullets like candies
and charged him for them, too."

"Sweet girl.
She has your barbed bones, but her heart is a rattle gourd.
Out there, she got fat on the stupid and the slow,
then starved herself down to a focused edge."

"Returning home, I took love out to the yard and chopped its head off,
fed it to silence" ... My favorite.

"It refused to die, but became something else--
this girl"

"but still able to articulate her wild hatred and intention"

All the best, to me.

K9friend said...

"Now she's awake, and headed east, one lung full of stacksmoke and the other collapsed and dying, but still able to articulate her wild hatred and intention for both of us."

Very powerful image.

Pat
Critter Alley

Gail said...

Your talent is stupendous.

I think I've read your best and each visit your writing is better and better.

Blogoratti said...

Vivid thoughts, and varying emotions with this lovely piece.

Elena Sands said...

Dark words. Nice write. :-)

Kerry O'Connor said...

This pic was made for you! The story-telling here is particularly forceful; the portraits you paint of both characters (the you and I)show immense perception into human nature.

Mama Zen said...

"She has your barbed bones, but her heart is a rattle gourd."

Damn, I wish that I had written this. All of it.

purplepeninportland said...

Woohoo! That was a good one. I love the description of the lung.

Maria said...

This. Perfect. Now, I can't see it any other way.

Ella said...

Shay, you need to write fiction! Your imagery guides us into the scene's sequence-like we are rubber necking.
I love, "her heart is a rattle gourd." And the ant hill memory-haunting.

Kim Nelson said...

I live in one of those western states where nobody lives. Keep scrapping to find a way out, too!
you;ve shown us the results of wear and tear with too-little care. Sad. Scary.

Lydia said...

but still able to articulate her wild hatred and intention. . . Wow, that really is what is behind her strong desert(ed) stride! I love everything about this poem, Shay, including that it reminds me of how I felt growing up in Reno "under a vulture sun."

Cat-tails: here be wagging tales said...

WOW - head to the hills!

Tess Kincaid said...

Fed him his own bullets and charged him for them...my kinda girl...