I was raised on the page of a magazine,
a pencil rammed down my spine that I might
keep better time.
My mother said, here, marry this potato,
this barbell,
this party hat,
this disease.
In the night they came to me
on the night trapeze.
I collected hallucinations--Laika in a capsule made of experts.
That winter, my husbands built priests in the garage,
confessed to plates of spaghetti
and drove down mine shafts to golf club coffins.
Now, I begin with new bones,
eyes placed on coins like hor d'ouevres
for the Oracle who breathes deep
and tells my future
even knowing that no one will believe her.
The garage is where they all go to pound away at their Rube Goldberg clerics, isn't it? This is full of the magic of an altered consciousness, one that turns the world sideways to see it better, to see it not for just what it is, but for what it does to us. Words can't express how good this is, Shay--Lorca meets Dali and does a full Fireblossom, tainted fireworks and acid-etched neon brought to life in words. I can't pick a favorite passage because each is beyond exceptional. A literally amazing piece.
ReplyDeleteOne should listen to the oracle and believe, for the prophecy is real and true. Excellent ink.
ReplyDeleteSometimes true life is too unbelievable. No one would believe it even if it was spelled out for them before their eyes. This magnificent poem hits many chords for me. Absolutely mind blowing my friend!! You are so ready for your next collection!!
ReplyDeleteThe eyeballs on coins like hor d'ouevres is especially arresting.
ReplyDeleteShay--Mind-blowing, as usual. (That almost sounds like they cancel each other out. ;) I especially loved the line about confessing to a plate of spaghetti.
ReplyDeleteI wish I could hear the oracle, but fear I am deaf. Fortunately, only moderately blind, so I could read this fine poem ~
ReplyDelete“eyes placed on coins”
ReplyDeleteGenius.
Just back to reread. Even better the second time.
ReplyDeleteI love the surrealist imagery tinged with hints of real-life nightmares! There's a power in being able to commune with the Orcale.
ReplyDeleteOoh, so reality altering?
ReplyDeleteOr is it reality
creating?
Wow! This is so layered, I had to read it like three times.
ReplyDelete"Eyes placed on coins like hor d'ouevres" - what an image!! This one itself you could dissect for hours.
I loved all your hallucinations, your multiple husbands, the night trapeze, the breathing Oracle. Really powerful and sensory, well done! <3
"I collected hallucinations--Laika in a capsule made of experts."
ReplyDeleteall the lines in here are exceptional, but i liked that best. i've always liked your style, you bring a lot originality to your language, and a strong blend of surreal and redux that i love, that's a true commodity these day. everything is disguised in this poem, but very real, as the husbands play with their power tools, as they talking into there food at the dinner table instead of looking in eyes, they feel a bond in the silence that you share, expect that bond was not made in silence, but they keep telling themselves otherwise and you (and i would never assume that "you" are "you") you, alone in that bond, reinvent yourself . the surrealist is always amused, and pain is always the most amusing, sad but true, that's what i see in here. well written shay
Love the different ways the future is foretold wrapped in the subtleties of every day life.
ReplyDeleteI really love that image of Laika in the capsule... I am not sure if you ever watched the movie "My life as a dog"... Life could have been worse... think about Laika.
ReplyDelete