To the woman urinating in traffic

I know, I know.

They  shook your gentle core,

scratched your love and

chased your fears out to the cold.

Now you’re here,

out in the light for everyone to see—

cut open, wet,

an unsightly mess

beating like a fish.

I know, I know,

that’s why you’re urinating on the road

on a Monday morning

while the rest of us are marching;

you’ve got nothing better to offer

after your heart has been

left to fall.

Muttering ‘mad’, ‘deranged’

they’re turning away;

no, it’s not you—

it’s the sight of our great, good promise

crumbling to waste,

and through its breaking, gaping cracks

there’s you—urinating on the road.  

Fear of the Inexplicable - Ciara Duffy
Photo – Fear of the Inexplicable by Ciara Duffy

Fallen fancy

Fantasy,

I was all for you,

ready,

breaking,

falling apart,

wet,

dripping

heart hazards,

melting

sweet and soft

for the million ways to be taken.

But, you fell short

far behind my magnificent haze,

utter, real;

like an moan drunk down

to ricochet off the throat

and slumped thump in the gut-

wasted.

   

1888, Le Nu au salon: Silvestre, Armand. Société nationale des beaux-arts, Salon Société des artistes français (France).