It always seemed a secret
truth: drowning men
was part of her culture, surely
the storytellers knew about the sirens?
Calypso lobster, starfish bra, under
the froth was a lie
revealed: men will make you
happy, we were told
instead they want you
silent and hurting – deprived
of that story, we’d have no language
for losing our tails. Hashtag not
their tails but hashtag all
metaphors swell to fill the space we need.
It’s not feminist
betrayal but critique:
if you’re drowning
men with your sound, don’t
stop and gingerly walk the broken glass: drowning men
is your birthright, waves
of sound come back to meet you: sing
louder and let them
learn to swim
Thanks to The Writers' Greenhouse for the prompt to play with line breaks using a fairytale.
See the new NaPoWriMo poems as they pop up, complete with pics of the handwritten drafts, and suggest titles for them, via whatever social media you call home:
All my poems on this site are now #FreeForPoets to play with, to write hybrid forms such as glosas, coupling poems, golden shovels, acrostics, centos, and erasures. Full permissions here: #FreeForPoets.