We are odd ducks, motherless
full of gunpowder and honey.
We see everything onrushing,
through the prism of a bus windscreen,
drinking to stop the chatter,
always bumming a dollar and then drawing on it,
turning it otherworldly, gorgeous, useless.
Dead brothers rise up from their graves
as we try to have dinner, watch tv.
"They're weird," say the women
in their housedresses and galoshes,
whose dreams are unyielding as can openers.
A woman is expected to be beautiful,
a man stoic.
Where does that leave us?
Gauguin never came around again after the thing with the ear.
Mothers die, Lorca wants to kiss you,
and Diego fucks everything that's not nailed down.
We live in a snow globe inside a tornado funnel.
We are divine strays
leaving tracks on new sidewalk,
ducking thrown shoes from a holy or profane hand.
Here we are in Vinnie's car,
seeing swirls and jagged edges,
bizarre permutations and fields of flowers
in some cop's mirror shades.
The New Mexico night seems to bless us
as the cop lets us off with a warning,
his common brand of gibberish
as foreign to us as ours is to him.
_______
for Sunday Muse #131.
I think you've gone beyond just capturing the vibe of this image here, Shay--you've enhanced it from the visual to the spiritual--that feeling of expanse mingled with nightmare, of alienation and the refined air it breathes is rich and distinctive as truffle oil. SO many stunning lines and similes--I especially like turning the dollar otherwordly and gorgeous, and the women whose dreams are metallic as can openers., and that entire, exquisite penultimate stanza. Also, perfect title and tags! I knew you would be at the top of your form with this one, and as always, you never disappoint.
ReplyDeleteAn inventive "take" on this odd threesome. I love the vision of the wives in housedresses and galoshes! ....and somewhere in New Mexico there's a cop still scratching his head!!
ReplyDeleteFrom full of gunpowder and honey to dreams unyielding as can openers you have knocked our socks off with steller imagery Shay! The perceptions we have of life can be abstract in themselves. You have captured the sense of wild and crazy in the image and taken it to the depths of what cannot be seen. I love how you can do that my friend. Brilliant poetry as always!!
ReplyDeleteCreativity is your specialty, always traveling a new road. This line really struck me . I never
ReplyDeleteconsidered dreams with can openers. I wonder now about her dreams that cannot be opened
as she has limited vision.
whose dreams are unyielding as can openers.
Interesting read filled with thought.
Wow! Dreams as unyielding as can openers! Awesome. Ducking thrown shoes....the holy or profane hands. You always amaze me.
ReplyDeleteeach line is a monument. a mouthful. a mammoth marker.
ReplyDeleteThis captures the movement, the story refracted tiny and perfect, into the poem. Just amazing.
ReplyDelete" motherless / full of gunpowder and honey." Full stop. I'm not even sure I can read the rest without breaking where that landed in me. How do you do that? What Louis Buñuel film did you grind and snort when you woke up in the morning, and where do I get some?
ReplyDeleteShay, as usual, you have produced a sublime piece of reading here. I bow in awe!
ReplyDeleteI would love to see this turned into a screenplay .... it deserves being brought to life. Good, bad, hard, soft, funny, sad. This is profound poetry.
ReplyDeleteYou can paint vivid pictures with words, setting scene, colors, action. I read your work and I'm jealous of your talent, yet inspired to up my game. "They're weird," say the women
ReplyDeletein their housedresses and galoshes, whose dreams are unyielding as can openers." Just one of the many lines I wish I'd written. You've captured the image so well and drive it at a 100 miles an hour.
I too enjoyed this, your writing also. The scenario in the New Mexico night hit me hard, a long time ago, even another bride and two babies, our car generator broke. In the dark, coasting down all the little mountains and driving up hill, we stopped at the Tucumcari train station and were invitred to spend th night.
ReplyDeleteI wish I knew the drivers like some did, names are familiar. Please remember that I am your sow's ear guest writing fool. But I'm glad to be here, thank you. A car buff, I loved the prompt. You answered it well.
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I love the way you paint these incredible characters with your words. You capture the outside-the-lines essence of these remarkable individuals so effectively — it seems they could easily be, or perhaps should be, 3 outrageous friends, cruisin’ free in Vinnie’s ragtop, top down! Great write Shay! ;)
ReplyDeleteI love the way you paint these incredible characters with your words. You capture the outside-the-lines essence of these remarkable individuals so effectively — it seems they could easily be, or perhaps should be, 3 outrageous friends, cruisin’ free in Vinnie’s ragtop, top down! Great write Shay! ;)
ReplyDelete...and one wonders which Frida they ended up with for the ride. Great write; truly a visual feast!
ReplyDelete“We live in a snow globe inside a tornado funnel.”
ReplyDeleteThis was the whole message for me. Love your writing !
Insights of course spot on.
ReplyDelete