Redacre – A Poem by Monica Youn

1 min read

in a scheme to entice her
they fashioned a shrine
with jewelwork of berries
with crewelwork of vines
red mullions flaunting
clocked velvet drapes
rose patterned carpets
in plush-piled heaps
at the pulsating heart
of this upholstered nest
a snug seat like a socket
that whispered of rest

But I can’t be your mother
I’m not ready yet
and the care of the little home
clumped with regret
and its sorrow turned inward
turned acid turned foul
and corrosion traced stencils
in slime on the wall
and the draperies puddled
in ponds on the floor
and the overripe cushions
ruptured like sores

the seat melted to nothing
a hollowed-out void
that drained away everything
in a purgative flood
more taboo that urine
an effluvial flow
stream toward the sewers
a liquified No
wide eyed and wide mouthed
she gaped in dismay
as perl-like the possibles
went floating away

Source: The Awl

 

(So wonderful I am saving a copy here.)