Orion headless

Poetry, art, found objects

Searching for Mermaids

By Matthew Dexter

You dreamt of desire infinite and wet, marrying a mermaid, but you lost your looks, riches diminished, wealth dried up, ended down and out with madness, left me swimming with the fishes, hepatitis, and syphilis. You pontificated into icy eyes as we snorted cocaine, watched as the cartilage ripped from our nostrils like origami birds bleeding into the waning sands of eternity.

The demented overturned hourglass smashed. The well was empty but we had each other, made love beneath the moonlight beside the lake. We came together with the cumulonimbus clouds every morning just before dawn when the stars were still shining somewhere, pulsating.

Police were not drawn to us because we looked wealthy, wore nice clothes, no arrest warrants, no criminal record. The authorities knew we slept there, but thought we did it for fun. We watched the ducks, fed them rye bread. When the lake froze we ate more slices, snuggled a little tighter and shivered with the reflections of splintered sunlight.

Years passed and your face grew gaunt, more wrinkles, both eyes bloodshot, burst blood vessels, purpled sclera, my breasts began to sag then sink. We held onto hope, invisible rope to a distant constellation, kissed dirty necks and swallowed the grime. We coughed with the moths that tried to find warmth in our ears. We made napkins out of dirty undergarments and hung them around our necks. One day while napping you disappeared into that water and never returned. I woke up wet, knowing all was in order finally, you must have found your mermaids.

 

One Response to “Searching for Mermaids” (post new)

  1.  

    Brilliant piece, Matthew.

Leave a Reply