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.