Meg Sefton's Blog, page 3

Spicy

Scene at a square dance, McIntosh County, Oklahoma, circa 1939, Library of Congress

My spicy doppelgänger has been dating.

I left a note for her, telling her if she dates, people will confuse us, get the wrong idea.

One day a man told me “I loved meeting you last night.”

I wanted to say it wasn’t me, but relenting, I replied. “Thank you.”

Follow

kings hollow by snake venom, flickr

When I fell into the tunnel of unknowing, you hushed me as hands pushed me into a vat of milk and blood. Why do I follow you beyond all reason? Why do I lose myself and prefer instead that I become an object in your eyes, something to be made?

Longing

“Florida” by Mickey Luigi Logitmark, flickr

At sunset, she walks the beach hushing a nonexistent infant in her arms. But no one else has seen her, only me. They say I imagine her, dead and barren in my longing.

Harvest

Shadows by AJP, flickr

There was a hush after the pied piper of souls disappeared from conscious awareness. Ideas, knowledge, thoughts, creative inspiration had been harvested and kept elsewhere to the benefit of the rich who hired the clever men to press buttons and pull levers so the rest of us did their bidding.

Grotesqueries

Public domain photo by Suzy Hazelwood, flick

A woman sits on the pavement. When I draw near, she says: Let me introduce you to my grotesqueries! Out from under her blanket spill children with gnarled faces, hungry eyes. They gnash their teeth and lunge at me. Her shrieks stab my ears as I bolt to my car.

Horse

I have dreamt I stand beside one of the few pastures left in south Orlando. A horse comes to me, laying his head upon my shoulder, tickling me with his rough mane. “We come from a different time,” I tell him, “A different place.” His flank quivers. He whinnies softly.

Puebla

Mexican sunflower, flickr

She wore a red Puebla dress like his late mother’s the day he came to repair her sink. When he had repaired the air conditioner a couple of months ago, she had turned him down for a date. Even though she was not Latina or Catholic, he felt his mother urging him to try again.

Time

Unsplash photo by Jon Tyson

Time seemed to be stretching on forever, like pulled taffy, so Miriam surrounded herself in ticking clocks. One night, she awoke to a grotesque battle between the black mantel clock on her dresser and the country French clock on her desk, each marking the seconds in increasingly loud ticktocks.

Face

Public domain photo by MouthGuy2013, flickr

The children took a field trip to DC to tour the first US Fascist Regime. At first, Gloria was thrilled to meet The Minister of Propaganda who presented the kindest, warmest face. But after the children filed out, Gloria saw a grotesque face peeping through the back of her head.

Fragrant

Adam King, unsplash

There was a ball of kudzu, Spanish moss, and dead leaves on my doorstep with a tag that read: Meg’s Southern memories. When I left it there, it started to cry. When I picked it up, and patted it softly, its fragrant burps smelled like the wet woods in summer.