Genre: Dark, Hurt, Betrayal, Humour, Women
Autumn in Connecticut
by Debra Tammer
Hoovering sucks,
And so does her lemony mouth, malevolent, moon-shaped, mature.
One more domestic chore for this respectable whore.
The urge to lick the carpet clean is prickling on her tongue.
The leaves are crumbling underfoot,
Like her marriage which is done.
The famous grouse she’s drinking ferments and burns a hole.
She’s smoking for the first time; that sable, obsidian soul.
Whispering blows,
And so does the wind, diminishing yet deafening.
The sun holding it’s majestic reign against the ornamental mantle,
Slowly withdraws it’s incandescent light; he’s not coming home tonight.
Autumn in Conneticut; her beanstalk husband so degenerate, effeminate.
While she remains a celibate in love, laying eyes on the landscape above.
She falls into the molten brown bottle before shattering,
And relishes the glass that smashes, crashes, gashes…
Lying screws,
All over the table; framed, feigned wedding pictures unhung.
Duck-egg blue walls, her legs sprawl, hand shakes
Worth nothing; she looks to the painted card players,
Gambling away her life; mendacious men, the worst best man.
Blood bursts onto the Cézanne, staining her heart.
Cutting edge, a master piece, a fresh work of art.
Raw, ruddy and vexed, fruitless and undersexed.
Gushing taps,
All over the kitchen, jabbering prattle box spouting fire,
“Philandering! Adulterous!” She clocks the thunderous spire.
She recalls the basilica where her sacred vows dissembled.
Shedding her skin, waning as she walks, she leaves.
Shutting the exposed brick behind her; bloodshot, dishevelled.
She sucks a Marlborough red and feels it on her waistline.
Dropping down, a vermilion bed of wild, wild grape vine.
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Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html
WATCH this month’s poetry readings performed by professional actors:
http://www.wildsoundfestival.com/april_2015_poetry_readings.html
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