Thursday, January 5, 2017

Daguerreotype



What will you make of me?
A wanted poster?
A tarot card?
An advertisement for skin or a warning against
such pleasures of the flesh?
Stern temperance or wet 
for your long stretch of dry county?

Around me
light is a thought barely spoken -
its utterance snuffed against my angular bones.
My eyes are the stones 
cast at witches and whores.
My cunt is old 
as the four edges of the world.

But I'm just a girl.
All alone, sir
and awfully grateful for your care.
A girl,
yes, take me home, sir;
take my picture if you dare.

A rather rough draft for Fireblossom Friday at Real Toads

11 comments:

brudberg said...

what wonderful contrasts and opposites.. a whore-madonna complex in words. Love the title too.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

WOW! I especially adore the middle stanza. "...light is a thought barely spoken....", "my eyes are stones".....and the cunt as old as the four edges of the world. Fantastic writing.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Vulnerability and defiance - they sit well together here.

angieinspired said...

I really liked this, even though my least favorite word was in it. Edgy piece

razzamadazzle said...

Very intriguing! Love the edginess.

Fireblossom said...

" Around me
light is a thought barely spoken -"

I love that. The whole thing is like a warning that comes a moment too late for the one receiving it.

Kim Russell said...

I love the way your persona interacts with the reader. She is definitely edgy and quite dark in character. I love those lines:
'Stern temperance or wet
for your long stretch of dry county?'
and
'My eyes are the stones
cast at witches and whores.'

That final stanza is chilling.

blueoran said...

A monologue from every bin in the thrift store, both mirror and grave. Familiar and ghost, great-grandmother and epitaph.

hedgewitch said...

There is something about this picture--a falseness with the allure and posed innocence, that you nail in this piece of darkness, and it's not that easy to define. I also had the sense of something under the hood which one needs to fear--maybe that is part of being a woman. Really an excellent poem, MZ.

Gillena Cox said...

Yeah baby !!!

"My eyes are the stones 
cast at witches and whores."

my favourite lines of this piece


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grapeling said...

there's something in that right shoe, too big for her foot, slightly forward and ajar...

chilling ~