When she was a very young chili, five seedcakes divided into an orgy of autocrats. How much she adored their lumberjack esthetic. They used mercenary larva to compose a charade of turbulence. All lunatics aside, the mergers came freckled; short charmers every one of them. Excavators swimming in and around each other, because vipers do not follow a straight timeline. The pall she had undergone to make medicine out of lightning. In her forties, the deadbeat first touched her, and how much she admired her lug of an artist. This chaotic menagerie went on to use lard to make operatic meat out of her lifespan.
Meg Tuite is author of a novel-in-stories, Domestic Apparition, a short story collection, Bound By Blue, and won the Twin Antlers Collaborative Poetry award for her poetry collection, Bare Bulbs Swinging, as well as five chapbooks of short fiction, flash, and poetic prose. She teaches at Santa Fe Community College, is a senior editor at Connotation Press, an associate editor at Narrative Magazine, fiction editor here at Bending Genres Journal, and editor of eight anthologies. Her work has been published in numerous literary magazines, over fifteen anthologies, nominated nine times for the Pushcart Prize, five-time Glimmer Train finalist, placed 3rd in Bristol Prize, and Gertrude Stein award finalist. Her blog: http://megtuite.com.
Wonderful–the title, mercenary larva, orgy of autocrats, and the final operatic meat out of her lifespan. What gets leaked in the absurdity of it. Love.
“Mercenary larva” and “the mergers came freckled” and “vipers do not follow a straight timeline”! So much to enjoy here. It reads so succinctly, yet rattles the brain at every turn. “The pall she had undergone to make medicine out of lightning.” My god. Also, a tiny typo with “lumberjack aesthetic*”.
I wonder if this N+7 was taken from a movie premise? If so, it might be fun to treat it/call more attention to it being a synopsis. Something like “Fishmonger of Articulation (2023)” with [drama / comedy] beneath, or something like that. And then at the very end of the prose poem, it could say, runtime: 94mins. Just some ideas! Might be fun to test it out and treat it like a proper (fictional) movie.
I love “When she was a very young chili,” there’s something so endearing, surreal and yet identifiable about it (I guess it’s the similarity between chili/child). i was just like, “ahhh.” so sweet. i’d love to think of myself as a young chili turned human and i just might start.
“Excavators swimming in and around each other” love this.
“make operatic meat out of her lifespan.” wow. “mercenary larva” this poem is just so much fun to reside in. fab.
This is great, Meg! So many surprises at every turn. I love the “operatic meat.” Wonderful!
… vipers do not follow a straight timeline. Superb image for kinking up the works, nice!
Operatic meat!!! This reminds me of Kim Magowan’s Madlib, how a difficult subject matter can be dealt with a different vocabulary. “Vipers do not follow a straight timeline” is a telling line in this piece. I love the swoop to her forties–always a huge fan of short works that take giant leaps in time. This one is an absolute keeper!