Saturday, 7 September 2019


by Mary McCarthy

Anger wakes me 
pushing me out into the air 
to speak where you will never 
be welcome 
no matter how well you cover yourself 
with denials and apologies 
no one will believe you 
no one swallow your refusals 
or crouch in your shadow 
no one will carry 
your shame for you 
as you stand naked 
dissolving into smoke 
and a sour taste 
a ghost no one will notice or regret 
Don’t think you can follow me now 
into the wind and sun 
my dark hair burnished 
by golden light 
a wild tangle 
rising glorious 
as though alive and dangerous 
as Medusa’s snakes 
their tongues tasting power 
turning you and all your lies 
to stone.

* * * * *

Mary McCarthy has always been a writer but spent most of her working life as a Registered Nurse. Her work has appeared in many print and online journals, including Third Wednesday, Earth's Daughters, the Ekphrastic Review, and Verse Virtual. Her electronic chapbook, Things I Was Told Not to Think About, is available as a free download from Praxis magazine.

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