Thursday, September 5, 2013

Margarita



In the scablands
I was his sour rose

made from the brittle peel
of a dark and shriveled lime.

I wore heartache on Tuesdays
and stilettos on workdays—

cradling my rusted pride
with strength just enough to throw halite

on the trail of slush
left by his insensate heart.

He simply laughed, depravedly,
Corona spraying from his nose,

until the sting
and watery-eyed regret

saw my frozen eyes, obsidian, indifferent—
to his suffering of half-drunk burns.


© 2013 Jennifer Wagner


For Laurie Kolp’s prompt at Poetry Jam.


*Halite-aka rock salt, used to melt ice.
*Mexican beer and lime can cause burn marks similar to that of a jellyfish sting.

25 comments:

ND Mitchell said...

Hi Jennifer. This one really stings. Your word choice is so appropriate to the subject matter and the imagery you use, particularly the rock-salt image is crafted beautifully. Wonderful poetry my friend.

Optimistic Existentialist said...

Emotive and powerful...watery-eyed regret, that stings indeed.

Brian Miller said...

I wore heartache on Tuesdays
and stilettos on workdays—

dang, lines i wished i wrote, if i could get away saying i wore stilettos...ha....this is wicked good...the laughed depravedly, your imagery is spot on in this...

Anonymous said...

great final twist, Jennifer, and echoing Bri I like that couplet ~ M

Mary said...

Really like the intensity of this poem, Jennifer. " frozen eyes, obsidian, indifferent— " really draws the poem to a srtrong close!

Helen said...

.. 'cradling my rusted pride' is a great line ... I had a Corona list night with my dinner .. had to laugh at that line.

Ella said...

I can so relate to this poem. I know people who drink and the stings they toss and throw. Bittersweet is how it makes me feel. They don't remember...I do!
Wonderful poem~ YOU nailed it!

Claudia said...

I wore heartache on Tuesdays
and stilettos on workdays—... so good ... love the images...ugh..the half drunk burns... quite some emotions woven into this

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh yes, I have so been there - this is exactly how it is. It is a relief once one gets to the frozen eyes part. You totally nailed it, kiddo! I especially love the heartache and stilettos lines.

Laurie Kolp said...

Rusted pride... that's great. I especially like:

I wore heartache on Tuesdays
and stilettos on workdays—

Peggy said...

Wonderful vivid images in this. Thanks for sharing this.

alan1704 said...

Watery-eyed regret - Amazing words and beautiful images, this really tugs on the heart and soul.

Anonymous said...

This is excellent. Thank you for sharing it.

Anonymous said...

a work of art, your poem - i love
I wore heartache on Tuesdays
and stilettos on workday

janetld said...

Sharp poem! Stellar word choices.

My favorite parts - vivid and original:

In the scablands
I was his sour rose

and [as also is the case for several other readers!]

I wore heartache on Tuesdays
and stilettos on workdays—

Anonymous said...

Very strong poem, loved so many lines,really well done.

Wendy Bourke said...

Haunting images in this piece, Jennifer. I thought, the lines:

cradling my rusted pride
with strength just enough to throw halite

on the trail of slush
left by his insensate heart

really captures the lethargic malevolence inherent in toxic relationships.

Susie Clevenger said...

Wow! This definitely had "bite" to it. Great write!

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Lisa A. Williams said...

This is wonderful, so descriptive, captivating lines. Love it Jennifer!

Vett Vandiver said...

frozen eyes -- sooooo great! love this poem.

Audrey Howitt aka Divalounger said...

I wore heartache on Tuesdays
and stilettos on workdays—

Love that line! Jennifer--this is such a vivid and emotive write--really love it!

Sarav said...

Jennifer, Wow! I love this, harsh stinging, scablands was really inspired as was trail of slush left by his insensate heart :-)

Geraldine said...

What an evocative poem. Well done!

Susan Lindquist said...

Ouch! Painful but so full of powerful images that make the pain a pleasure to read ... love the lines 'cradling my rusted pride ... left by his insensate heart' - phew!