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light house lucy
by Rachelle Howethere's a pier not far
from my abandoned building.
the one i call home
the one i can't phone home from.
you've walked along my beaches
with the washing waves and shore
and these jezebel's and legions
all wrapped around my throat
like barbed wire and
salty aftermath.
you've been taken into
the back of my throat
night after night,
your arousal slipping down
for me to swallow.
and i wonder if you've been drinking
while gobbling up your leftovers
wonder if i'll lose my sobriety
(maybe your footprints won't
sear so bad if you grill me across
your ribs
to be marked and paged
to be marked and washed away.)
01/19/2004 Author's Note: hm. meh. originally in the "kiss the forsaken" folder.
Posted on 01/19/2004
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Mainon A Schwartz on 01/24/04 at 09:45 PM Your poems are like palmprints, so unmistakably you. I've missed reading them. I'm particularly caught by the first stanza (that's so rare) because its simplicity is unexpected, stark... I'd almost rather see you try to sever some of the simile and metaphor from the rest, and make it work like a skeleton-- the simplicity of bleached wood scraped up on a deserted beach. Most of your poems are thick, and the richness of metaphor suits them... but I feel like this one is begging to be pared. And you know I couldn't offer criticism if I didn't love it. :-) |
| Posted by Maureen Glaude on 01/26/04 at 05:46 AM I've been reading of mermaids in Carol Shields' novel The Republic of Love. So this is very timely for me, and alluring. Well done. |
| Posted by Ginette T Belle on 02/02/04 at 10:55 PM your writing is getting better and better...each word you connect together makes this beautiful, potent picture that moves my every being...you are amazing... |
| Posted by Leslie Ann Eisenberg on 02/29/04 at 04:17 PM like barbed wire and
salty aftermath. potent is right. great imagery, and not overly explained. keep trusting your voice!!!! |
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