Banshee

it’s that time of day
the air vibes like a kicked over can
saggy tits and a plastic martini
a man approaches on 5th and Chestnut, dreaming like he’s walking, going on about how all the most beautiful things
begin with the simplest of phrases
a punch of adrenaline, a shot
behind the eyelids, a wail like an iron tiger,
a banshee scaring children out of their pajamas and parents out of their nakedness and pronouncing rebirth wherever her long legs perch their tent

banshees that’s what he calls them
the phrases that sing, the simple words that cut through hoity-toitiness and bullshit vocabulary where curse words aren’t autocorrected into “ducks” and “shirt” and serious scholars don’t count the number of lice nesting on a bird’s feather

a banshee is a sentence that screams,
he says. you and I are made of stars
and red crayon. our eyes finish
the sentences other people
don’t know they’re writing, he says,
every poem is first
a misreading of
something else.
not everybody knows
their ass from a hole
in the wall (wagging his finger),
which is exactly what
my grandma used to say

our eyes, he says, know the way,
he says, can find the gaps, like two bodies making love, can trace the tongue from between two lips to the hand on a breast through the uncertain line between collarbone and tightly trimmed just below the navel, a full thigh plunged to the depth of a hot summer morning

a banshee, he says, is dewy fresh, a sentence you’ll never forget
*sips martini right between the panties like a steaming macchiato*
he’s either a bum or a god
and part of me wants to take him down three blocks and buy him a slice of pizza
street vibes all Hotel California
slow brew on a Friday afternoon
you can check out any time you like,
baby, but you can never leave

23 thoughts on “Banshee

  1. Just discovered your blog through your “like” and I sit humbled, but motivated more than ever to write banshees. Great poems or posts, or whatever you wish to call them. Full of banshees. Thank you. Finding your blog made my week worthwhile.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m utterly in love with this piece. Especially these lines:

    “our eyes finish
    the sentences other people
    don’t know they’re writing, he says,
    every poem is first
    a misreading of
    something else.
    not everybody knows
    their ass from a hole” – no truer words have been spoken! Also, amazing to have you on board at MP!

    -A.G.

    Like

  3. By the end of this reading, one simply remains astonished and agape by your poetry. In the current age of literary cataclysm and misleading idealism, you have never seemed to be so contemporary, so relevant, and so necessary.

    Liked by 1 person

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