Word Garden Word List--Chouette

 

Hello my little life rafts! I have been drowning lately in a sea of disappointing--dare I say disgusting--books. Did I say a "sea"? It was just two, but allow me my dramatic moment. To begin: horror isn't a genre I read a lot of, and when I do it is almost always either Stephen King or Clay McLeod Chapman, author of the much beloved (by me) "Ghost Eaters." So, imagine my happiness when his new novel "Wake Up and Open Your Eyes" came out and I got my copy! It's about people who watch "Fax" News and turn into demented zombies. Sounds great, right? Well it wasn't. It was just gore, body horror, weird sexual situations, and did I mention body horror? right from page one. I got half way through and DNF'ed it when the family dog met a horrible end. Really, Clay? I'll never read you again. 

Claire Oshetsky. Stay away from me, Claire.

So I wanted to read something lighter and my eye came upon this 2021 novel called "Chouette" by Claire Oshetsky. The dust jacket features a wonderful woodcut of an owl sitting in some foliage. It's about a woman having an owl-baby and the problems that causes. It sounded like a charming little fable or fairy story involving birds--what could go wrong? Lots, as it turned out. This book was just as gory and disturbing--and even had a dog come to a horrible end!--as the one I just threw in the trash. 

This book shelf ain't safe!

Not wanting to DNF two books in a row, I hate-read this one all the way to the bitter end. Most reviews hail it as being some sort of genius statement on motherhood and feminism. My review differed. I saw it as the delusions of a mentally ill woman living in a fantasy world and exercising a destructive obsession regarding her owl-baby, who may or may not have actually been an owl or done any of the violent things the narrator claims. Don't read it, it's awful, a sort of cross between "The Bad Seed" and "Helter Skelter," but I do still like that woodcut. I may read "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm" next, just to be safe!

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. Then simply link up, visit others, and be kind to doggos. This prompt remains active until next Sunday.

And now, your List:

absent

cello

ceremonial

dream

flutter

gaze

giddy

golden

grit

miracle

napping

ominous

owl

shrieking

slippery

speak

stiffly

swoop

wild

yabber-yabber (talking without saying anything.)

I Confabulations 5:13-27

 My heart remembers, dear friends, the glad evening

when the davenport did receive my person even as a

mother cradles her firstborn. O happy hour! O time of bliss!

As I watched astonished, I was provided with a magical light

Which emanated--as if from the mansions of Heaven!--

as a glowing loveliness from a device with which I was blessed.

O wide screen! O splendor of high definition! My heart

remembers these wonders and even now, gladness fills me,

Despite the trials which befell me in the fullness of time.

I was given to behold wonders, and amazing scenes,

called "a game show" by the sages whose words were

handed down to me. My heart remembers all these things!

Lifting the golden cheesy triangle of glorious pizza to my lips,

my heart soared as I gave myself unto such debauchery

as cannot be imagined! The devil mozzarella! The imp pep-

peroni! My heart remembers, and quakes with shame!

Hear me, lest wickedness overtake you! Partaketh not of

spicy foods in the hours after the sun's arc has been completed!

My desires ruined me! My merriment furthered my misery!

My heart remembers my unwise and froward acts. O torment!

My heart remembers how I was robbed of any rest, my belly

filled with a burning fire, until I cried out, "Can there be no mercy?

Is there no Pepto in all this miserable and curs-ed land?"

The hours passed as slowly as wisdom to the mind of a fool!

Heed me well, my friends. In sooth, I made my prison with

mine own willfullness! My heart remembers the pleasures,

 the new wine (okay, Coca-Cola), and the mad revelry which 

laid me low, but my stomach remembers sevenfold!  O ruin!

__________

for What's Going On? What the heart Remembers

Music:  Rubber Chicken My Heart Will Go On

Survivor of The Night

I dreamt of my ex,
and my ex laughing.

I dreamt of horrors, each stacked upon the others,
like mating monsters.

I dreamt I was trying to deliver misshapen parcels
to tiny mailboxes
in a dark room,

And all the names were wrong, and of dead people,
interred inside the walls, throats filled with dust and plaster.

I dreamt of enormous violent insects
which ate each other's faces.

I dreamt they had zebra stripes and fish mouths, gaping.
I hit them in the eyes with a hammer
again
and again
and again.

I dreamt that they wrought horrors too sickening to tell;
I dreamt that I failed to save my children.

I dreamt of my ex
and my ex laughing;
of exoskeletons and murder and shame.

I dreamt of these things over and over,
all in one night, like an exorcism.

I awoke, ill and afraid,
in a still, dark room that was orderly and quiet and untouched by these things,

Ten years removed from you, wrapped in my own life,
still breathing.

_____

Snake Mama

Snake Mama gave me the gift of a thousand knives.
"They are beautiful!" she preened, alight.
Over rusty, infecting edges, she crooned,
"They are perfect, pretty, and mine."

Striped with red, I dared to scream.
"So over-sensitive! What are you thinking of?"
Each invasion deeper, further obscene.
"Come, child, be constricted in my love."

Snake Mama can't be wrong,
And brooks no blame, she's smooth--
No harbor, no boundary, no private place
From the trenches undersea to the mountains of the moon.

Cut off one head, seven more will grow,
Each one of them speaking the same;
Snake Mama poisons her babies' bones,
Hard done by to find they're insane.
_______


Find information for daughters of narcissistic mothers HERE.

_______

The Plastictown Flood

Plastictown, Plastictown, lost in the flood!
The Resin River rose!
A plastic disaster of water and mud,
Bringing 1/24 scale woe!


Plastictown, fair jewel!
Molded by the hand of God--
We loved the sweet and rolling green
Of your old plastic sod!


Charlie, the police chief stood
On his sturdy polymer base
With a look of uncomprehending horror
On his painted plastic face!


To the stained glass of the First Plastic Church,
Where people sang Old Rugged Plastic Cross--
They peeled the plastic warning bells
And prayed all would not be lost!


Alas, too late the clap-on sun
In its lofty plastic socket--
Its light too weak, its warmth too late
Too stem the flood or stop it!

The cotton clouds, too thick, did bring
Calamity upon the land!
The waters swallowed dear Plastic High,
And the entire marching band!


Heroic Fido swam the current
To reach his master's boat!
Old Dobbin was already aboard,
Still munching plastic oats!


The Plastic Express went into the drink,
Likewise the Main Street trolley!
The Titanic sank over by the bank,
Despite the Plastic Guard's brave volley!


Plastictown, Plastictown, lost in the flood!
In the Spring of '92!
Not a trace of dear Plastictown now remains,
Though the sky's been repainted blue.

(from the book "Realistic American Disasters: A History In Verse" copyright 1952 by Herschel Wadsworth Whitman)

And, by popular demand...

And....we're back!

Well that was fun! Blogger's little bout with blogbonic plague, or whatever, wasn't so bad. I simply found other useful things to do, such as rocking back and forth in the corner, twirling my hair around my finger and then yanking it out, all the while muttering. "wtf? w...tf?"

Now, if you would just give me my Teddy, and leave the door open a crack, I think I may be able to regroup.

__________

Rx

I put on somebody else's white coat--

In the pocket,

Cookies, quinine, a stethoscope.



They should have feared the female--

Those too ill to work,

Those too mad to think...



Tiny mosquito--

Entry through the skin is called subdural,

A kiss, a fever, this camp full of sleepers.



I made the sign of the cross.

I made diagnoses and prescriptions.

I had no training at all, and yet,

Many recovered and kissed my hand.

Many died and said nothing against me.



At night,

The toads were thick in the jungle, calling.

In my tent, I listened for my own heart beat, finding it strong and heady.

I took down the netting,

And dreamt of the curve of your hips as if I had gathered the hills above the hospital into my hands.



Sometimes the dead walk--

I disperse them with my happiness here,

In this delicious hell I stumbled into,

Smiling,

Smelling the glory and the endless easy blood.

_______

Missionary Stew

"Don't you believe

In the literal word of God?"

Said they.



Let me think.

Let me see.

Let me consult my heads on sticks

With their eyes so pretty stitched

So wise.

So gay.



They say no.

No, we don't.



Besides, we find it surpassing odd

That you believe in one single lonesome God

Watching "House" on Hulu...

Such a strange drooping deity

Will never do.



I believe in

My neighbor's thighs,

And

The sun and stars.

Things that aren't,

And things that are.



"Would you like to discuss these things with me?

Stay for tea?"

Said me.



They say no.

No, they wouldn't.



All one can do,

(I say to the heads)

Is offer the truth.

They nod,

Painted and beautiful in the evening breeze,

They hang.

They agree.

________

photo from Beetlejuice


________

The Disinvited

You got rid of your dog,

The one your good guy husband adored...

Because it might have germs on its ass

When it sits on the carpet

Where the kids play.

My dog sleeps with me,

Licks my face,

Eats my plate...

So gross!

Oh, by the way,

Your kids cannot catch my queerness...

Pinkie promise, Princess.

__________

picture: Alexz Johnson. If there were any justice in the world at all, I would look exactly like her. ;-)

The Football Game

The football players are getting like marshmallows.

The blockers squish.

The runners ooze.

The situation worsens steadily until the officials are standing there in the middle of a bunch of goo.

Players and teams are indistinguishable.

The commissioner is like a pudding in his seat and cannot be revived.

Angry fans surround the officials.

They speak of the money spent on tickets.

What are you going to do?

The officials are nervous.

There really is no provision...

_________

And now, please indulge me while I pander to my bestie, Mama Zen....

Happy Saturday. Go, Sooners!

__________

Dammit Janet

Lambs, what I'm about to reveal to you may shock you. It may upset every idea of me you ever had. You may shake your head and say, "Fireblossom is just not the gal we thought she was." But truly, I promise to put aside the wasted years and do better in the future.

You see, dear readers, until today, I was a Rocky Horror Picture Show virgin. Yes, it's true. My empty life held no meaning. I had never done The Time Warp. But now someone--a woman who seemed at least marginally normal--has deflowered me. Pardon my frankness. Pardon my Frank N. Furter-ness.

And now, if you'll just take a step to your left. Jump back to the right. Put your hands on your hips...

_______