Saturday, January 6, 2018

Dido

She's so proud of her jugs, but they're only full of wash water.
Who else would wear diadems and diaphanous gowns to do a load of colors?

She says she gets a weird high down there in the basement,
and tells the future to Pecky, miserable in his cage,
more fascinated with millet than prophecy.
The sun, to him, is a fairy tale;
the rattling furnace is as close to a tree as he'll ever get. 

God, I hate her. She's so nice, and so stupid.
Going through the pockets of her man's jeans, she pulls out a diamond
from among the phone numbers and weed dust.
She sticks it in her eye and starts speaking in tongues. 

For fuck's sake, the cycle's almost done,
her kid is howling upstairs because Thomas the motherfucking Tank Engine ended,
and now I have to pick up her slack while she la-dee-dah's around 
like a brain damaged nymph.
"Snap out of it!" I screech, and she blinks, then frowns,
then flips open the machine.

"When did you buy that?" I ask her. What about your precious jugs?
She waves her hand.
Her one diamond eye sparkles, the other looks vaguely up at the ceiling.
Pecky screams, apropos of nothing.
"Bless your heart," she says. 
The furnace kicks on.
Her dog comes down and circles three times, then shits next to the dryer.
"We're blessed," she adds as she hefts a plastic basket on her hip,
then turns and rises up the basement stairs 
like carbon monoxide inside a party balloon. 
_______

for Camera FLASH! at Toads.


14 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

Such great timing in this tale, Shay. I love how you blend the magical realism with the prosaic narrative. This provides insight which is both humorous and astute.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh my goodness! You took me there. I wanted to rescue the parrot,("more fascinated with millet than prophecy". Wow!) and the dog, and take them into the sun. The diamond in the eye got my attention. How you do tell a tale. Glad I dont live in that house!

Trådløs said...

What a great character study! I think I have met her once
Loved especially the rises up the basement stairs
like carbon monoxide inside a party balloon image

angie reinspired said...

A woman who knows her own mind. Basements, basins, blinks and all!

said...

"now I have to pick up her slack while she la-dee-dah's around 
like a brain damaged nymph"

You are killing me!!! So dang hilario.

brudberg said...

I think she will crack... keeping up appearance is one thing, finding meaning is another.
Made me think of Lucy Jordan a bit....

Toni Spencer said...

Yeppers. That deadly air inside a party ballon. I knew a woman like this in university. Her kid's diapers always sagging. I kidnapped her car though and took her home with me in another state. My parents were horrified but fell in love with the cat whom they re-christened Annie. She was so pretty and sweet in appearance, like a fragile little fairy. But mean.

Kim Russell said...

Brilliant, Shay: 'Who else would wear diadems and diaphanous gowns to do a load of colors?'
Poor old Pecky, 'more fascinated with millet than prophecy', with 'the rattling furnace is as close to a tree as he'll ever get'. Free Pecky!

Sanaa Rizvi said...

'Who else would wear diadems and diaphanous gowns to do a load of colors?'.. this alone is so powerful! The imagery in this poem has cutting edge to it. Beautifully done, Shay!💞

Brendan MacOdrum said...

Flies solo, at altitudes and attitudes that ever astonish.

hedgewitch said...

Too many ace lines to quote here, but the overall message remains understated and subtle--who is she? I wonder if she isn't me, or a million others I've passed by the way, fishing that diamond out and using it like a shamanic monocle. The word play and the imagery are miles high, Shay. Just an excellent piece.

Debi Swim said...

I know someone close to this... Bjorn is right - it leads to breakdown.

Marian said...

Someone get that kid outta there before it's too late!

Sara McNulty said...

Your imagination went wild with this one. Outstanding, and fantastical!