Loving the Alien

you ring from your childhood home
gingerbread and chalk
lemonade and vodka
sweat and honeysuckle
blood and ear wax
sudden memory
of a cold platinum table,
hot needle fracturing your brain.
"come over here, mother's dead!"
i pack an overnight case
lacey red gown, tarot cards.
the door is white chocolate.
i eat every sliver.
i find you fetal positioned
in a tie-dyed bean bag.
mother comes
to the lancet window
in smeared red lipstick,
blue smoke curling
from a trembling cigar.
it can ruin the nerves
children trying to bury
the undead.
ten card spread,
don't touch the hanged man,
my hard nipples
stretching out in your mouth,
maybe only ghosts
can see ghosts,
so many things
i would say to you
if you couldn't talk back
and laugh
and ask me how
i could ever love
someone like you.

Rebecca Lu Kiernan

If you've any comments on this poem, Rebecca Lu Kiernan would be pleased to hear from you.