Piñata
I woke up in the thunder, remembering when the shitstorm broke over my dog killing your new woman’s kitten, or so she said though no one was home at the time and it was her word against the dog’s, as her wheedling rat whine proclaimed her own Weimaraner’s yellow snake-eyed innocence. Our dog now my dog hung her head like a dead flower. Rain hit the windows hard and she made you buy a very expensive parrot who relentlessly paced clack KLACK clack skitter his claws like lunatic castanets rattling on the hardwood floor when I came with the baby for those few nervous visits because we were adults,
and cocking his sly slit eye at me, shat on the bookcase but I didn’t mind keeping the dog because I loved her more than you and I knew which bitch was the killer.
But I do wonder why life made up its mind without thinking always to be that way rip wrapping gifts, all the candy in a hard concrete shell no bat is going to break, all my good dogs crying where someone else kicked them and some poor kitten dying for a drama queen and acrimony and accusation exploding like favors from a minor imp’s piñata every time standing under it blindfolded asked to explain what I don’t know a damn thing about. All to get what rots my teeth chewing up a punchline of sticky blame in the whole lame artificially sweetened standup act and leaving after leaving in the night without a word, as I wake up and its raining hard on another empty morning to peel back off a stack of bloodstained morning killers wagging tails belly up staring snakeblink yellow eyes, ad infinitum.
May 2012
Posted for Meeting the Bar at dVerse Poets Pub
Victoria's prompt: Stream of Consciousness
Image: Feliz Cinco de Mayo by garland cannon, on flick'r
Oh wow, a *shit storm* indeed! Love the vitriolic thunder in this it's really raw and passionate. A really brave share! Well penned! Hope the conscious stream helped with the venting (and the other woman got her karma ha!)
ReplyDeleteYeah, she got my first husband--that'll larn her.
Deletewhew hedge...love the clack Klack sounds of the parrot...and sounds like you live by my neighbors...you would think any offense to them would be the worlds end going on and all...i just focus on the mole on her left cheek and imagine it coming alive...and i knew which bitch was the killer...haha, love it...
ReplyDeletei would've always believed my dog's word more...just saying...a raw write..love all the strong images..and i wonder if you have a secret box of powerful images somewhere in the cellar...ha..great write joy..
ReplyDeleteI love the focused angry energy at the drama queen of this! Yes, doesn't this just say how we feel sometimes, doesn't it?
ReplyDeletePotent, amazing imagery (like a blend of reality and surreality melded in a forge of poetic fire), and full of compassion despite the well addressed anger.
ReplyDeleteThis is so good, Joy. As I read this I realized how effectively you used enjambment which lends so much to the stream-of-consiousness experience that you "dragged" us through and how well you allowed us to enter into the emotion of us all. Sounds like I would believe the dog over anyone.
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ReplyDeleteLet's try that without the Typonese:
ReplyDeleteI think she and the parrot should mate and have hordes of devil babies. They sound like they deserve each other and probably have the same horrid dry scaly feet and beady inscrutable eyes, not to mention very similar ear-splitting screeches. What a package. Holy hell.
PS--I love "Blues On The Ceiling" on your side bar!
ReplyDeleteThanks dear--laffin at the scaly devil babies. I knew you'd relate to this one. And Fred Neil is a soothingness.
DeleteSo that's how your mind works unabated. Cool :)
ReplyDeleteWhoa, I seriously dig your stream of consciousness. Mine, these days is as turgid as a trickle of sewage. But it's a kinda cool prompt. And you knocked it out of the park.
ReplyDeleteI'm with Sherry and she stole my "whoa" but that's what I say also - this is one freakin' amazing poem ... better than a stream-of-consciousness I think but if that's what it is, I am jealous of your mind's stream - that's a fer sure ...
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by my blog already and sorry for the teeny-tiny printing ...
Thanks, S.E.--I enjoyed your piece a lot, and I readily forgive your font--I do like the old typewriter looking fonts, even when miniscule.
DeleteRemind me not to make you, your dog, or any nearby cat, angry. k.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading your words - love all the connections
ReplyDeleteGreat response to the prompt - and great use of language.
ReplyDeleteclack KLACK clack skitter his claws like lunatic castanets
rattling on the hardwood floor
I'm with Shan...loved the venting in this, and your great use of language.."snakeblink yellow eyes" & "wheedling rat whine" especially...I must remember those...lol...great! :)
ReplyDeleteThere is some fabulous onomatopaeia and word play in this poem. S of C works really well here, it can hardly contain your resentment and frustration. I shall read this again.
ReplyDeletethe sounds of the expensive parrot are still ringing in my ear ~
ReplyDeletefabulous write hedge ~ enjoyed your torrent of words ~
Wow! That one ripped through me. The one line that sums up all the hurt, disappointment and sense of failure for me, is:'our dog now my dog hung her head like a dead flower...'
ReplyDeleteThere is so much play in this storm it feels like getting hailed on by candy. A perfectly conceived and executed metaphor, with every word another flying piece of hot-candy ammo. There are some uglies that just need stream of conscious diatribe-storms, and this is really bursting with lightning venom in each bite.
ReplyDeleteThe woman and the parrot ought to hit it off, Joy! They ought to have all the weirdos to keep them company !Great word play Ma'am!
ReplyDeleteHank
Hedge, very cool stream. I love stream of consciousness pieces, very rarely can a reader hope to know what meanings are rooted to the minds travel, heck, many times the poet themselves don't know right away, and that is exactly why I love stream writing and reading them you never quite know what your going to get, which again, is always a treat. Very cool piece here. Thanks
ReplyDeletewow,
ReplyDelete"I didn’t mind keeping the dog because I loved her more than you
and I knew which bitch was the killer" -
but the real reader killer is the second stanza which rushes full force forward through every resistance of reflective understanding, outstanding in the cascade over the formal-form-dam
yea...wow....
Intense writing here! Can feel the anger and frustration. So glad you kept the dog. I'd believe the dog, too.
ReplyDeleteExcellent stream that rushed me along with it.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
This raced - so strong, so passionate, so vivid. Action plus image yielded intensity, understanding, explication. WOW!
ReplyDelete"and I knew which bitch was the killer"
ReplyDeleteHell to the yeah!
Love the tone of righteous indignation and which bitch was the killer and the pinata simile works so well and it's Memorial Day weekend so a time for some fond reminiscin' eh?
ReplyDeleteHeat up those coals, baby--parrots on the barby add a festive touch to the holiday menu.
DeleteThis is a perfect stream-of-consciousness poem.
ReplyDeletesome poor kitten dying for a drama queen really hits me because of an episode of horror in my past that I will neverever get over. This intense and heartbreaking poem also conjures up the fury I felt four years ago when loose neighbor dogs attacked my two precious dogs while they were on a leashed walk with me in our neighborhood. It was such a vicious attack that the police made the owners put down both of those dogs, but not before the woman actually had the gall to walk down to our house that night and swear at me for swearing at her 13-year-old daughter, who was on site at the scene and who was so huge I thought I was screaming at a 30-year-old slob.
So, my "so there" joins your "so there" and the beat goes on...
Whoa! That blew me away...snake eyed killer dog, shit storm and all...wow! Really well done...and I'm with you on loving the dog best!
ReplyDeletewow... this is and incredibly potent, powerful poem, filled with rawness and honesty and life. i love it. and i think your dog was framed.
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