Monday, May 11, 2009

Eleanor Delivers

A party, a picnic in the hot July sun.
I fainted at the parade in front of a
stranger... the orange boats of 
breakfast floated in the deli john.

So sorrys and thank yous were
delivered amongst the smoke and coffee.
Take me home, take me home...
where's Mommy?

As flags waved in the hot potato salad sun,
adults in innuendo and chasing,
sent us packing to the fields without
a bat or ball... just anger
and unanswered questions.

Away from adults, I was safe and sure
while chasing the bugs of crepey cloth
awaiting display of lightening.

Boys got bored and Eleanor appeared...
in girly dress and curly innocence.
Carried to a stump, "my sister is stupid
do what you want," he said. 

I watched with others as she stood smiling
in jeer and mockery, a sweet child,
stripped of dress, cotton panties on display.

Down they came, as fingers poked in laugh
and sniff, "she's just dirty" like a Venus
on display without the tufted treasure...
only a gap toothed grin.

An when the defouling occurred
in her giggles and acceptance,
I was deflowered in chastity...
she became the plaything of desire
to a pack of dogs.

I shivered the suffering
and disappeared to nurse
on honeysuckle in the setting sun. 


  1. Powerful and heartbreaking. The return to the maternal images of "nurse" and "suckle" at the end is beautiful and haunting. I see it as the speaker seeking "Mommy" in the closest thing he/she can find, a flower that offers sweetness in the tiniest drip. The connection between human "deflowering" and the comfort the speaker seeks from the honeysuckle is subtle and meaningful. There is much to be said about this poem.

  2. Thank you, I'm glad to put these haunts to rest.