Collective Unrest

 

Upon Discovering You Have Begun to Lurk in the Neighborhood, I Complete This in Finality

May 29, 2019

(After seven years)
you violated the ultimate human(istic) agreement:
I keep to my side of the bed, you keep to yours.

Staring at your constantly-fading face and
evaporating outline, if I learned anything,
it’s that I was made for better things.

I took a chisel to the bedframe and carved a gorge
between us. Gleefully, the Hudson burst the windowpanes
washed up a conch shell for my sailing home.

The last I’d heard the barnacles had blinded you,
so you could never objectify again; they complained,
even they, could not clean that sin off of you.

The Hudson isn’t a river, it’s a tidal estuary; and I,
let’s clarify, was never successfully victimized.
We offer you eternity to feel seasick at the thought.

 

M. Eileen writes and breathes near water. Her poetry and prose has been featured in publications both local and international ranging from Hanging Loose to Rogue Agent, S/tick to Monkeybicycle. She can be located at @m_e_g_writes. This poem previously appeared in S/tick magazine.

Please follow and like us:
error
In category:
Newer Post

My Daughter's Room 11.09.16

Last night while my daughter dreamt that the wind was brushing past her uncut skin as it streamed through all the shattered skylights, the country crept in and re-plastered the open ceiling.     Claudine Nash is a psychologist and…
Read
Older Post

One Thousand Women and the Way Home

i wanted to follow them, the women in white. i wanted the women & their billowing dresses to carve a path through the water, ghost- like silk clinging tight to their curves. by now, they perform the ritual of our…
Read
Random Post

Two Photos

Follow the Money I took this shot of a manikin standing outside a thrift store in Ocean Beach, San Diego, CA.  An assemblage of symbolic meanings captured in one photograph forms a snapshot in time of America. The Universe of…
Read
Random Post

Sinking City

Beyond rescue, Miami is a cruise ship lost at sea with no lifeboats, throwing an all night dance party, music and stamping feet drowning out the sound of taking on water— but no,  not lost, the sea knows exactly where…
Read
Random Post

echo

After the wonder that is Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”   I have seen the best minds of my generation rotting, stowing away in apartments and alleyways searching for something to fill the abysses and gaps and voids and holes boring through…
Read
Random Post

Resist

Every day we awaken to some new atrocity, scandal, misuse and abuse of power at the hands of men. Every day a new tragedy, trauma, act of white male terrorism. Each sunrise piling fear atop compounding fear. We awaken to…
Read