Oh, I was dead at 29

Oh, I was dead at 29

by Elisabeth Horan

doused and lit

with bikini lines

smokin' men

on my red hots

leaving them in gutters

10 in one pop.

I know what you mean

I really do

my cervical spine has fused

from looking over my shoulder

the muscles tired of

all the rubber-necking -

they done snapping back.

what did I think I would see, with

all this scouting out behind me -

Alejandro, el pendejo, flying in from Mexico?

________ ___________, with his apology

for raping me at 16?

I can only tunnel vision now

no periphery,

I’m done with #metoo

if I've no one left to tell it to -

no careers to ruin 'cept my own,

with tales of the gropings

in blood clot dawns

baby mine - don't you cry

for me no more

I don't need you, I don't need


I need water, endless geysers

want to wash the grime off me

burn with sulfur any trace

of violations which occurred

on the dermatological construct

of me, daddy.

I lied. I need you.

You knew I was coming back around with this -

you know my tendency for neediness

but it is only with you I behave in this way

I don't smother any others these days -

I let them go, easily; like old

coffee spilling in the driveway

our histories dispel

as smoke

even as they pivot away from me -

I will be ok…. Alone is really good

alone, is what I make of it, and

death is only a month away

The prior repertoire of eating souls

is not for me anymore -

Light be crave

get me through

this night again, give me one

good dream that is not of

broken bottles slashing

trolls hidden in the casings

hot dogs penetrating

showers of gold teeth cascading

children lost forever and naked

predators in the woods

instead of chickadees

flitting around snatching babies

this is why my neck has fused

from the midnight run

I must have been torqued in

my hapless pillow form

till the night had passed through in

another fatal storm.

Elisabeth Horan is a maternal feminist poet and ecowitch from Vermont. She advocates for all whose voice is not being listened to including animals, children, and those suffering alone and in pain. She has work up at Moonchild Magazine, TERSE. Journal, Blanket Sea and Milk & Beans. Her chapbook “Pensacola Girls”, written in collaboration with Ms. Kristin Garth, is forthcoming from Bone & Ink Press in autumn 2018. Find her on Twitter @ehoranpoet

Image by Wonderlane, found on Flickr:

#poetry #elisabethhoran

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