Have You Ever Slapped Someone Transparent?
by Agnes Marton
I’ll be a djin, that’s what I deserve.
To linger before becoming a shell.
To be sold without a price
and to feed those who won’t
call me a slave, noble souls.
To skim or not to skim,
my problem, not theirs.
They can speak
up. My masters. Especially him,
his voice is a glacier calving,
drifting them too. He knows how to skin
a lion, but it’s me who buries the kids’
darling tabby, humming to mild
the cling of the shovel
on the gravel. We hug. They ask
why I never giggle. Never yawn.
Never say no. They ask why
my name is Where The Hell
Are You Bitch. They don’t even ask
why my flapping hands are wind.
* * * * *
"Have You Ever Slapped Someone Transparent?" was written after the author read this article: https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2017/06/lolas-story/524490/?utm_source=atlfb
Agnes Marton is a Hungarian-born poet, writer, librettist, Reviews Editor of The Ofi Press, founding member of Phoneme Media, Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. She is based in Luxembourg. Her recent publications include 'Estuary: A Confluence of Art and Poetry' (winning the Saboteur Award), her poetry collection ‘Captain Fly’s Bucket List’ and two chapbooks with Moria Books (USA). She has participated in an expedition to the Arctic Circle.