Iconic
The half-suns laid in brick —
tan curves on a red face —
close in on each other
but never touch.
They will not come together
to brighten the sky.
They will not kiss your face
with rays of light.
They will not bring rainbows
after April showers.
They will not melt snow
covering the sidewalks.
They will not help plants,
they will not light the way,
they won’t wish you good morning
when you rise from bed.
They will burn no skin,
they will blind no eyes,
but will not delight
at your gazing all day.
They will protect you from
rain, heat, wind, and snow.
They will let you meet your friends,
they will take your plants, too.
All you need to do is hide
behind the half-suns laid in brick,
destined to remain apart
‘cause only nature yields the stars.
Seether
You came home,
itching for blood,
lusting for fire.
For thirty-one years,
you fooled your neighbors,
fooled yourself.
You thought you left
the monster under
your child’s bed.
All those times
he cried, “Daddy,
there’s a monster,”
he never knew the monster
slept inside you, arms
wrapped around mother.
You stored your anger
in a bucket, added
a little each time
until one last fight
and the bile spilt,
awakening the beast.
The glint of a blade
streaked through the house,
the hollering pushed her
behind the bathroom door,
her hands shaking, fingers
fumbling over the phone.
You marched away,
gasoline in one hand,
match in the other,
taunting your victim
with wisps of smoke
curling into her shelter.
Bleating sirens, crackling flames,
madness,
impromptu gathering on the lawn.
For thirty-one years,
you fooled them,
now the monster
has been trapped,
a caged lump
in the shadows of a cell.
Christopher Iacono lives with his wife and son in Massachusetts. You can learn more about him at cuckoobirds.org
Featured photography by badpoem
May 4, 2017 at 8:28 pm
“Seether” is so good, so scary. Reading it was like watching a full length horror movie the way it led you little by little into the madness of this broken man. Loved it.
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