The Tenth Month

In the tenth month,
the limits of the natural are exceeded.
Trees dissolve and what remains
too long must be expelled, debrided.

There you perch, smoking while I suffer.
Fire, Love? We burn, but as a disease.
In the tenth month, what has gathered must scatter
lest it smother, lest it freeze.

Behold what becomes
(of our union, dear, of our fucking.)
Behold the freak, the monster
the helpless nightmare of our making.

In the tenth month, you cannot fly, but seize
as your pretentious pose shits itself and dies.
And me? Your one-time ideal?
I eat shame, and vomit, when our merciless fledgling cries.

for Magaly's "October" prompt and for the Tuesday platform, both at The Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. 


hedgewitch said…
"In the tenth month, what has gathered must scatter..." this starts out in a simple sort of declarative voice which soon becomes a horrific view thru a nightmare lens of what otherwise might seem normal,turning an inevitable progression into a tangle of frightening images, all bloody and real. Left me cold and clenching my hands.
Debi Swim said…
This left me with a sense of revulsion, of horror, of a 'Rosemary's Baby' unease. Whatever this is about it leaves strong emotions and a prickly presence behind.
Marian said…
Well, that's about it for October. It scatters lest it freeze, and makes us sick. Blah!
Kerry O'Connor said…
I was so happy to see a poem from your pen in the blogroll!
This is astounding in the use of imagery, and a tone which cuts to the bone... Just perfect for the season.
Susie Clevenger said…
October can leave a bad taste in one's spirit or she is bright colors dancing...Only life knows which we will get. Great writing!!
Sherry Blue Sky said…
What a powerhouse this poem is. Visceral and fascinating. Whoosh!
Sioux Roslawski said…
"...lest it smother, lest it freeze," along with "Your one-time ideal" are my favorites. (I love the photo, too.)
Lynn said…
Girl! Chilling.
Angie said…
gnarly, snarly, darling.
grapeling said…
I bought both volumes of you and Kelly and Joy's works because of pieces like this. brilliant. ~
There you perch, smoking while I suffer.
Fire, Love? We burn, but as a disease**

Maude Lynn said…
Oh, holy hell. I've been dying to get over here and read this, and it was everything I could have imagined and more. Each rhyme turns the knife just a little deeper. I love this.
Helen said…
This one hits deep ~ going to stick with me for a while, Shay.