Thursday, May 31, 2007

Patty Hearst Dreams of Persephone Lost On Cadillac Mountain

Patty Hearst Dreams of Persephone Lost On Cadillac Mountain

A highway runs through your dream. Big semis, Harleys

rumble. Hell's Angel Harleys, and a little platoon

of matching yellow cars. They flit through the semis,

a flock of goldfinches, a school of fish.

You spot a deer standing at the edge

of the road and know it is about to die. It will be thrown

over the hood of a red car that will careen into the side

of an SUV and they will roll into the ditch at your feet.

Crumpled. You want to wave your arms to head off the deer,

but your arms are timbers from the mast of a ship.

The ship founders on rocks. Fog. You know now

you're dreaming because you wouldn't mix metaphors

awake. You're trapped in the dream, surrounded by Harleys

revving their engines, skulls grinning.

Soon, you will wake to bodyguards peeling redfruit

on the rocky coast or fall and fall through green water, tangled

in the limbs of drowned deer. Or throw a leg

over that Harley slowing to offer you a ride.

Mary Stebbins Taitt

From a MNP prompt by Pat Lawler, sent to Turtle Ink Press, 070531, 060329b, 060328b

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