Dream I
I
hear the call.
Unhusk
my tongue;
a
forked ribbon that leads me along
a
kaleidoscopic byway
where
every gnarled tree is ringed
in
garlands of night-black feathers
recalling
to me
your
feathered boa
your spray-stiffened
beehive
your
hands
sheathed
in pearls that glint.
You sway
in the eye of my room
sour
nuggets drooping to your feet—
How
you cherish these apples of Sodom—
your new
born babes
whom I now I
endow with names:
Craven
soul Apollyon;
fallen
light Eblis;
Dank,
daughter
you deprive of warmth;
the
forgotten Oblivia;
the
bounty-less Neap;
your empty
Nix—
and
then,
last
of all
Taboo,
the
waif whose love
is
always forbidden.
I try
to drown them
within
un-dream rivers
but they
burst in my hand
in
acrid puffs
of
ash.
Sue Cosgrave is a Russian-born, multi-lingual, multi-ethnic
writer living in Cork. Her poetry and
prose appeared in the Cork Literary review, The Five Word Anthology, and Can
Can. She was guest reader at the Over the Edge in Galway, Wurm im apfel, Civic
Trust House in Cork, the international Al-Mutanabbi Street commemoration, and on
the invitation of O Bheal took part in the Cork Coventry poetry exchange series
of readings in the UK. Sue is working on a novel and her first poetry
collection.
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