Friday, August 15, 2014


We've killed the constellations -
all but one.

Scorpius slid down Detroit's slurry throat.
Leo dimmed over Tokyo.

Aries, Libra, and the rest
were strangle shined to death;

Only the Little Bear is left,

hibernating, here,
in my right hand.

I want

end to the beginning,

but there's none.

Just a silent suffocation,


And, we've killed the constellations -
every one.

For Corey's prompt at Real Toads


Kerry O'Connor said...

This is stunning in its scope and intensity, MZ. I love the image of the Little Bear resting in the speakers palm - one who has lived to see all the lights go out.

Sylvia K said...

A stunning one it is indeed, MZ!! You never fail to amaze me!! Have a wonderful weekend!

Susan said...

A bang, a whimper ... whatever. All the heroes are dead.

annell said...

Down the throat, strangle, all are killed but the Little Bear....thank would be lonely without the Bear.

Björn Rudberg said...

Killing the constellations.. a dark painting of darkness indeed.. but it's the scorpion's nature (to cite Aesop).

Herotomost said...

I need a cigarette after that one...and I stopped smoking, Damn you MZ!!!! LOL. That was silky and desperate and beautiful all in the same breath, and what a breath it was. Thanks MZ, I can always count on you!

Anonymous said...

it's hot outside, but this gave me chills ~

Outlawyer said...

Ouch. Great take on the prompt. K.

Fireblossom said...

The rest of the constellations may have met their end in such dispiriting places as Detroit or Tokyo, but it makes this poem extra disturbing that the little bear expires in the speaker's hand (with a whimper, not a bang.)

My inner child is screaming NO, not the Bear, make Teddy better againnnnn!" My rumored adult is just sitting back re-reading this apocalyptic piece and admiring it in all its dark perfection.

Anonymous said...

Why did we kill the gods with that part of their nature that is worst within us? With each atrocity, do we kill another piece of time? Are we running out of time, having few then one then no stars to reflect us? Will we be free when they're all gone? Or will we simply be free of ourselves -- dead? Or are there people who exist as if they have killed off their astrology for want of heeding their advice? Whatever, it's a fine taut examination of losing one's sky religion.

Magaly Guerrero said...

I screamed for the wee bear. Then I breathed in a terrible sort of relief at the sight of the remaining constellation. The hurt for the bear remains, under a shiny promise that things can be different...

Post-apocalyptic hope. This is wonderful, Mama Zen!

Shawna said...

Wow. I am moved by this.

And "strangle shined" is a creative verb.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

A stunning write. I love that Little Bear is hibernatinmg in the narrator's palm, and hope he gets to wake up and stick around.....beautiful writing, MZ.

J Cosmo Newbery said...

No constellations. But consternation...?

Lorraine Renaud said...

I know all about silent suffocation do tell what happened to the Taurus?
This strikes me hard and I wonder how in the hell did I forget you? where did I put you? I'm so sorry, I'll bookmark you so i don't get stumped again, how could i forget?