Michael and Marie met in the middle of their names
as unexpected as any surprise ending,
especially for a beginning.
She, there then
when someone loosed the ties of their lips
and let slip the cat
which ran straight for his legs and stretched languidly
like a tired truth
"you were a mistake"
which she also was
and understood how the 's'
hisssssses out
like a deflating balloon.
And she was there
when her void
pulled the truth from him, hand over hand
reeling the marlin in...
only it wasn't that difficult,
from an observers point of view,
he gave it.
He owned up to the boy,
baby hand in a mothers fist
hearing the words reverberate through a cavernous bank
of marble, wood, expanse, huge word
BASTARD
the oh so tiny plea...
"please mommy! never say it again!"
and her arterial apology spraying across his sweet
fallen face...
"Never again love. Never again!"
He already knew...
the deep down knew
that gets hooked with a word now
hauled to consciousness, gasping, half dead
that gets hooked with a word now
hauled to consciousness, gasping, half dead
and brave heart...
he faked it.
I think we spiraled from there,
the pot of us bastards
and some un-named spoon
stirring.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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This might be sound like one of those creepy fans but I love this piece and your other pieces. Gahh. You might have to get a restraining order ;-)
ReplyDeleteI'll keep an eye our for roaming gnomes : )
DeleteThanks Ben
Annie,
ReplyDeleteYou stirred a pot bastards with this alright...How am i going to look at myself now,again..
The same way I do Manik, with awe and wonder and compassion. Sometimes I see in you the same shaped hole that I carry. I pray God fills it. I ordered your book and am anxiously awaiting its arrival from India!!!!
Delete:),,,.
ReplyDeleteThis poem digs deeper than I want it too...and makes me welcome the openness unfolding in our world in which the meaning of that word is fading to lesser significance.
ReplyDeleteLove the poem and the title. Pot of Bastards, indeed. Love you!!! xo
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed. “Met in the middle of names”, what a wonderful way to start. And then continued getting better. Great title too.
ReplyDeleteThe title definitely drew me to click and read more. So achingly strong, direct, yet obscure. OUCH. Love it.
ReplyDeleteAnnie, you had me in the middle of their names. i loved this. every line.
ReplyDeleteThank you everyone. I've been inattentive here. Inattentive lots of places, truth be told. I appreciate you hanging in with me. I'm trying to make it around to everyone and keep up, but I feel geriatric in that regard. This is a true story. I don't write fiction well...yet. That truth somehow becomes art is something of a comfort, even for it's ugliness.
ReplyDelete