Fossilized

Fused with a flat mental sky she charred hours with used, dead matches. All timid squalor, fussy haggling between impulse and intrusive clarity, wine doused her back into slatted mumble of day that drained her down the sink of another benign sunrise. A splinter throbbed, stabbed her through movement and calendars. Actions petrified.

Catatonia

The railing, littered with gripped stench of frenzied maybes, the erratic pulse of discolored being. A space blanked in on itself said, ‘oust’ ‘dishevel the river’ ‘paralyzed by desire’ until Lorazapem; blue code of the pharmaceutical kind, turned sideways and upside down from a German documentary into a Disney cartoon.

Salvage

• Ramped down into a dumpster of the past. Take a hefty inhale. Smell the filth of fingered histories. How much childhood can be buried? See-saw stomping over wrath and decay, whole family portraits propped up in kitty litter, remnants of food in Styrofoam, clothes, toasters, printers, sad decorations, and brutalized dolls.
• The rancid plagues of family albums that reek out of tired closets and cupboards. There’s a beauty. A girl, maybe ten-years-old, slung as far away from Dad in the photo, as he presses his body against her, laughing at her airborne angst.
• Memorial of the burned body. So much easier to roll and cigarette.

Buried

Woods, woods, woods.
Parking garage?
Wood-burning stove.
Eyes yellow as a fulfilled liver.
Basemented terror reeks of a whole genre.
That’s when somebody else rocks in.

Otherwise, it’s a goddamn curve I can’t see ahead.

9 Comments

  1. Robert Vaughan

    Hi Meg, hold on… here is an entire symphony of the ‘shingled past” in four parts: Fossilized/ Catatonia (did we go to college with her?)/ Salvage/ Buried. As in, we are GOING DOWN….

    So many outstanding lines (are you even standing?!!!!) and also, wTf, fuck. How can this even be?

    Send it out so others can be as stunned as I am. I am dumb-shitted into the who, how, why. And then I just relent.

    There is someone at the window. Let them in.

  2. Roberta Beary

    ‘The Past is Shingled: A Play in 4 Acts’ is how I read this stunning piece, while all the time the curtain calls just kept coming!

    Fav lines:

    Fossilized
    Fused with a flat mental sky she charred hours with used, dead matches.

    Catatonia
    Lorazapem; blue code of the pharmaceutical kind, turned sideways and upside down from a German documentary into a Disney cartoon.

    Salvage
    The rancid plagues of family albums that reek out of tired closets and cupboards.
    &
    So much easier to roll and cigarette.

    Buried
    Eyes yellow as a fulfilled liver.

    Keep taking those bows, Meg!!

  3. David O'Connor

    Meg, like Clarice capturing the now, like Beckett plumbing the human condition depths, not an extra word anyway. Send it out and now! Besos!!

  4. Benjamin Niespodziany

    “wine doused her back into slatted mumble of day that drained her down the sink of another benign sunrise” — I think this line just got me drunk

    “Basemented terror reeks of a whole genre.” So good! But maybe “basement terror”? Or even simpler, “Basement terror reeks of genre.”

    This whole piece is so sensory driven. I can taste and smell every line. It’s filthy, it’s maddening, it’s divine. Love these little vivid blips.

  5. Koss Just Koss

    So many great lines and love how it combines paragraphs and lists and the organization under daggered (or daggering) single-word headers.
    Some faves:
    Eyes yellow as a fulfilled liver.
    The verb of cigarette.
    mumble of day

    and i like it when you swear…

    Captivating and dark as always…

  6. Koss Just Koss

    Also, love shingled as covered, concealed, multi-layered, and shingles, the disease and all that it implicates.

  7. Ryan Griffith

    Meg, I love all the wonderful linguistic surprises in these pieces. I like so much of this especially the line “The railing, littered with gripped stench of frenzied maybes, the erratic pulse of discolored being. A space blanked in on itself said, ‘oust’ ‘dishevel the river’ ‘paralyzed by desire’ until Lorazapem.” Awesome stuff! Lots of textures of meaning.

  8. Lisa Alletson

    Every sentence is its own world. And nearly every phrase is too. What a sensory pleasure to read this brilliant piece.

  9. Len Kuntz

    Meg!!

    That is one great title (for your next collection?) and each micro has such astonishing and visceral language.
    What a great last line on the final one, but really all of your sentences stand out. It would pointless to cite my favorites, but this one seemed perfect for its ability to capture something visually that is vulgar yet true, plus it says so much without saying anything (show, don’t tell)–Eyes yellow as a fulfilled liver.
    More brilliance. Just keep writing and don’t stop.

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