Friday, June 11, 2010

Lola Weeps

She shakes as if her
bones were dice tumbled
from the gambler's hand
tears spurt like blood from
a sliced artery
her face swells into
a revealing mask
she turns from the lamp
though she's alone.
Darkness breathes
around the house like
the stomach of
Jonah's whale.  The clock
hands march with loud clicks
but her sorrow won't
scab   she weeps the
river in which
Ophelia drowned   she
weeps the acid brewed
in her uterus
she weeps flames and
the night burns.


(c)Serena Fusek          1991
from The Color of Poison
A Slipstream Publication
Niagara Falls, NY

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