Voodoo

The daughter came, nine yards

of shame around her,

as vile as red meat

in a black plastic bag.

What if the neighbours saw?

Mayonnaise dripping from an eye,

and white grass on her head,

she uncorked a gold earring

and it fell on the bed.

White grass on her head,

she'd floated home,

a toothbrush-

wildly bitten plastic, the bod.

A twig in her chest,

she didn't look her best.

The breath that had outgrown

her lungs, choked them all,

yet they buttoned the windows.

 

She was almost

a porcupine, shooting at them

these quills, these breaths

she didn't need any more.

Her intimacies had been inked

on her; the drape flickered

and they could read it all.

"Go back", they said.

Another prick was it,

another trick?

They swept her away

into the dark

like a consumed can

of something.

And outside, the dust

dolled her up for her

departure.