Tag Archives: greed

The Nursing Mermaid

The mermaid sat on the rock in the grey sea, nursing her baby, watching an angry storm roll in.

I half heard her song, high and sweet and melancholy over the growing cold wind, making me feel for something lost, pure.

She turned her head and saw me, her green eyes as cold and churning and angry as the storm rolling in now.

She pulled the infant away from her breast, and it began to mew and cry, but she dived under with it, and was gone.

I hung my head, flushed with shame, knowing all that we had done to her kind, and how few of cared to stop it, or saw them as souls, like us.




The righteous young woman, from that haughty sect

that sets themselves apart, dress the women in white robes,

stood their among the cluster of other women in her band,

long golden hair in a ponytail, staring me down with fire

filled grey eyes.

In the ether realm, in the realm beyond the sun and flesh,

she carries a sword all afire in honeyed flame, that she stole

for herself from a bored, disinterested angel more interested

in fucking human woman and shaking down the lonely

with false hope that he would fight for him.

She stares me down, cleansing hellfire in her grey eyes,

knowing me, knowing I am not so different, so good as

I have made them believe or dream I am, and I feel that

sword pierce my heart, and her hate, and it’s flames

burn right through me.

A smirk crosses her thin, pale and unadorned lips as she

leaves me behind, as her cohort of Christians crosses the

street as the light changes and I see the hunger to devour

all the lust and greed and cruelty, that living among her kind,

she knows all too well.

A month later, I would see on the news one Saturday morning,

as I was halfway to despair and elation from a sleepless night,

where Roxy and Sam spoke to me of things hidden in the air,

that she had taken a shotgun and killed all the men in her sect.

“God was away, and someone had to make them pay.”

The Moment of Quiet Before The Race

The river, just outside the high school, was still not clean.
Not after all these years.
It roared and was cold and silver, but not clean at all.
It only looked like home.
It still soothes me, something like my mother’s voice,
my lost mother, lost to the arsenic and the greed of man,
that died so I may escape, walk on two feet, safe.
I can’t remember my mother’s voice, only feel it.
In the dead of night, when I am all alone, I can be me,
mermaid and water spirit, floating in the man made pool,
looking up through the glass ceiling at the soft and distant stars,
even as the chlorine burns my skin, makes it pale and flaky.
I am a natural in the water, a child of Neptune and free, so free.
Even in the harsh water I feel free, even using human legs to swim,
I am free and almost home and where I want to be.
I pretend I love the crowd back. I pretend to bask in their cheers.
Mother gone, and I among the humans, who wrecked home for me,
caused my mother to be lost in what was hers and should not have
been taken, would should have been sacred. They should have cared.
Cared about the world they ravage for pieces of paper and shiny metal.
The river roars and I am clear in my mind, before the swim meet,
before my only peace and comfort, something more than the cramped
bathtub I have in the home a live in, with a sympathetic human,
where I can at least have my tale out, they I am trapped, with nowhere to go.
The meet is about to began, and I get up, and walk up the hell, the cool air
turning hot in my lungs, and my heart racing from stress if not exertion.
The quiet is fading, and these noisy bastards will soon cancel out all the peace,
but that is yet to come, and it is still a cool spring morning, and I am alone with quiet.