Mermaids

Lori Propheter

Mermaids

 

One
We keep our
legs under

 

blankets the
bones gleaming

 

in jelly like
concrete left in

 

a wheelbarrow
in the rain

 

the next day
leaves hang

 

under the surface
like beetles

 

under glass

 

Two
We dress in
fiberglass our

 

spun sugar
tongues our

 

foreheads messy
with welts we

 

film in secret
from knots in

 

plywood the
tops of milk

 

cartons the screen
door lets the

 

cool air seep
in we passenger

 

pigeon the night

 

Three
We drip dry
in the waiting

 

room our hair
shiny with fossils

 

moats circle the
automatic doors

 

our lockets leak
static the aisles

 

full of ashes
the tollbooths
come in waves

 

Four
We secretary
the morning

 

the intersections
full of bells

 

we slide right
through like

 

swords through
stomachs empty

 

yawn of space
the snakes

 

swallow everything

 

 

 

LORI PROPHETER lives and works in DeKalb, Illinois. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Poor Claudia, Storm Cellar, Sugared Water, and elsewhere. She is a poetry reader for GASHER Journal.