aftermath

I am a delirious, cackling witch,
screaming into netherworlds,
and behind closed doors,
into hauntings and the ears
of runaways.
They can’t listen if they’re dead
and dying,
but I can hear the faint beating
of their hearts,
and their resolute moanings,
dripping with immortal songs,
so I keep relishing the sound
of my own voice and the feel
of my own skin.
I don’t know why I
fall apart in your arms
like a trained tiger biting
her master,
while the flattened pine tree glares
at me.  I don’t know why that
tree hates me so much.
It has never even asked me
my name.

27 Comments

  1. Shrinks, the poetry you write makes no sense – and yet it makes ALL the sense in the world. I hope you understand what I mean, and that it is a compliment 🙂 It’s why I love your writing so much. It’s freaking brilliant.

  2. I am surrounded by forest, mostly pines. I must watch them more closely. If they piss me off, I can no longer handle an axe, but I’m a dead-eye shot. PS – You may have inspired me to reblog my first post here on WP.

  3. Trees talk through the wind the vocal cords are at the upper boughs to thin branches. Listen it may know your name but if a tree hates you it might be scarier that it knows your name. Kind of like Cheers in a tree…!

  4. If a tree is your enemy, you’re fine–we have feet, they don’t. The enemies we need to worry about are the ones that follow us around. Ugh. That being said, I freaking love the tree and the tiger biting her master.

  5. Could you explain some more about the pine tree? Is this a reference to some other piece of literature?

      1. That must have been terrifying. The only personal experience I’ve had with a pine tree was when my mother was dying and out Her Hospital Window I saw a bellied billowing flying angel in its bows. That perfect configuration brought comfort to both of us.

Love you, too

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