Mimi - Mona Poetry: Siren

A siren’s song, though irresistibly sweet, is no less sad than sweet, and laps both body and soul in a fatal lethargy, the forerunner of death and corruption.

©Siren

Mimi Wolske

All Rights Reserved

She let their cruel words, their dirty looks,

roll off her back— verbal blows easier

to take than a limb being ripped off;

and just maybe the words were more tender

than a 1,000 jokers between her legs.

In a deck of 52, there was no

marriage card for women like her...

women who took on guns,

bigger than their worn bodies,

behind the old fruit crating factory.

Her Life Passport shredded

in tomorrow’s circus, she cried

as each bit of stamped paper

made it clear her magic was gone;

she was a refugee in the stomach of some truck

Racing for the border,

her neighbors running faster than she...

None crawled under fences,

none wanted to be strip searched.

She wanted to go home—back to the shark’s mouth.

(Painting by Malcolm T. Liepke)