Jonah-Woman
Who are these white-capped jesters...and jackals
Who have placed me in the belly of a
White death-stinking fish?
Not this time, not Jonah-time fish.
Not walking out safe from Jonah's fish. No.
Not this time.
The jesters and tittering hyenas, with their night-lumin
Eyes, who tiptoe soft through the loud-hinged door...
And shut it quietly-quick behind them.
They are breathing to find me.
They safari hunt for me...beating the bush-room.
Mine. I am hiding in the pillow, in the chest of drawers,
In the air.
They can't find me with their needles and needle-quick
Pills.
The rancid, disinfected fish is down the hall, around the
Corner...on the ceilings.
I can sense death rattles...quick as goodbye from
Yesterday. The fish swallows the soft, noisy passage.
The fish is Hill House. The fish is the jackals' den.
The fish, with no fins, rummages the halls, airborne,
Hovering on moon-shadowed winds.
A scream, a gurgle, the fish forgets me for the moment.
The jesters still seek, seethe. They have other work now.
Something is wrong.
Something is amiss in Heaven.
They have placed me in a room with no art.
There is someone at the door...snuffling dog noises.
Who are you that you do not answer me?
The dog has gone. I think it has gone...but I do not think
It was a dog.
They have taken everything. Even the name of my Father...
Given it to the jackals. This, my scent.
They seethe out of their fish-den, carefully stepping over
It's teeth. Man-shark teeth. Death teeth.
They walk with needles balanced on a tray...rainbow pills
In teensy, little cups...watch me to make sure I've swallowed
The rainbow.
Something is my God wrong.
Something should not be happening.
I cannot walk out of this vile fish...like Jonah. I cannot go
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poem by Elysabeth Faslund
Added by Poetry Lover
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