Friday, December 13, 2024

The Wake (Break) Up

 

The severed heads

of roosters

littered the drive,

the yard.

 

We walked round them

unsure of what we’d missed—

 

some comic scene unfolding,

a drama

with cello music playing,

 

Hitchcock

standing

in silhouette.

 

I suppose I should

never have been

fooled,

 

but what did I know

of gallows?

 

There was fading light

in the lamps, and I was

distracted by

 

the pleasure

of softening together

like butter in the pan.

 

Really,

what did I know

 

of hatchets

in the shed

still warm with blood,

 

holding your hand

like a miracle

 

trying to avoid

the inevitable

slaughter at dawn?

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

The Word Garden Word List

 

10 comments:

  1. Channeling Mister Plath? Like Hughes's poem about the crow challenging the sun, I think we lose at love far more often than we win. But if we knew from the start about the hatchets in the shed, would we ever take the chance? Probably not. Cue Bonnie Tyler.
    I love it that you made it to the List!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow! It's like Film Noir put to pen! It's amazing. I enjoyed the build-up and casual horror of the played out scene. Hatchets, blood - "like softening together like butter in a pan" and "holding your hand like a miracle". Nicely done.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This takes me to my days of being a child and well the chickens in the yard became my chore to pluck. Also it later felt a bit like chicken days when romance broke my heart.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Oooh! Dark and yet warm and melting like butter...

    ReplyDelete
  5. Your first "thriller" poem, Jennifer, that I've read anyway, and what a doozy it is, blood spilt and yet to be spilt, a slaughterhouse that leaves one's nerves reeling and yet . . . that homey image in the center. It catches one off guard. Beautifully rendered.

    ReplyDelete
  6. First, this is such good writing. Second, this made me remember as a very small child watching chickens literally running around for a bit after their heads were chopped off. Ack! I love "softening together like butter in the pan".

    ReplyDelete
  7. Love and slaughter - what else is there? How many times has a heart looking for its Mister Goodbar found itself in cabin with Hatchetface, "softening together / like butter in the pan" only to become the main course come breakfast? And is desire ever complete without offering one's throat to a savage kiss? Deliciously menacing work here, full of soft feathers and severed heads.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Dark and rich, and finding a way to avoid slaughter is a good thing!

    ReplyDelete
  9. "but what did I know of gallow?" indeed, this refrain echoed. grim and relentless and clear-eyed, Jen ~

    ReplyDelete
  10. Hot damn, this is good, Jennifer! You literally had me with the first line and when we got to "Hitchcock standing in silhouette" I knew I was in the presence of greatness (that would be you, not Hitchcock!). And then the innocent question mid-way:

    "but what did I know
    of gallows?"

    The pleasure softening like butter, the whole dark underside of the scene...just utterly, utterly bewitching and beautiful (despite its dark side!!) Lovely to read you again :-)

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for your thoughts!