Ooga booga, darling.
It's me, sunflower face
the fox-hearted misdirected letter of your dreams.
I live in the space between the walls.
I play Candyland with brain-injured devils
for a pot of chilly blue dawns.
I raid your fridge while you dream of dolphins.
I tip-toe around your place, judging the art,
boiling the pasta, making a mess.
That's me saying, "love me" from the heat vents.
That's my voice on the tv during your ballgame,
making you fuck with the settings.
Give in, please. I haven't got all day.
Once, I was an Egyptian queen.
Once, I was a Dutch laundress.
Now I live inside your Jiffy-Pop, getting hot, expanding suddenly.
It's me, sunflower face,
the fox-hearted misdirected letter of your dreams.
You'll wake up in love with me.
You'll wake up as a black horse wearing a feather plume.
You'll wake up to find me in bed next to you, staring.
I've put my stamp, my kiss, my spell on you.
Easy, my high stepping Friesian, shh shh...
It's all right, I'm a specter and I've got the cure
for all your missteps, I'm an oval track, fresh spring clover,
a pinch of salt, and a lot of black cat.
______
What an amazing kaleidoscope of images swirl in this, bright feverish visions sliding one by one into focus, then being eclipsed by the next dazzling but somehow sinister beauty. You give us a rather frightening picture of love here, something not quite of this earth, and nothing to be casually played at. One of your best, Shay. Every stanza rings hard and sweet as a brass bell.
ReplyDeleteOMG ~ lost my breath, all I got is MEOW.
ReplyDeleteCreepy, spooky, fabulously good. I really like stanzas two and three which made me laugh a bit and then felt that tingly hair-raising sensation with the final two. Your closing lines are just spot-on.
ReplyDeleteWow! Breathtaking! Especially the sunflower face and the fox-hearted misdirected letter of your dreams. That pot of chilly blue dawns is astonishing. Every poem of yours, I ask myself "how does she DO this?"
ReplyDelete