Muse On My Staircase

not your regular water nymph
or white-robed rider of hippocampi
flitting through small
spaces, or Melpomene gripping
the open-mouthed mask head
trailing saliva no match
for the sweat that gathers
before the morning’s first drink

dripping from the jungle ends of his
hair and tearing down his forgetfulness
as again you ask it
what the hell
happened to you

wearing the same blue shirt
if I stole it, would
he stay with me, nereid-like
a terrifying thought
as I tug at the door locked

from the inside and he
throws down on the stairs
singing in that case I’ll have to stay
the night, or the morning as it may be,
belching, but the key will fit

and he will slouch out
along the cobblestones
under the crooked lamppost
jeans hanging from his ass
forty-five degree angles and that shirt

with the flamingo logo
was it? – already soaked before lunch
when he emerged from the
bathroom, slicking his hair back
glistening around the jowls
having just flung water over
his face.

Pale Red,

I am drowning in the steady flow
of more vodka than cranberry

and the accompanying clink-clink

of ice as he carries it from the kitchen
or stirs it with his finger it’s both dear
and revolting; I’ve had a nice life, he says

the good stuff, that’s at the front end
and I want to say that’s not fair where’s my
front end, but the blown glass tumbler

isn’t listening. “How about a cocktail?
Start the day off right….” My laughter
first time he said that, now pale red

blood on my leg – Oso Negro
lashed out of the garbage
attacked me on the stairs

red halo and Pall Mall Boots
Jamaica and Aceite Rojo – the maid
starting on the cabinets – there is

so much red everywhere
although I never wear it, on purpose,

the colour doesn’t suit

even this runny-egg shade
that laughs when the light hits the glass
it’s going to be more bloody than this.

* Oso Negro (“Black Bear”), a Mexican brand of vodka.
* Aceite Rojo (“Red Oil”), a cleaning product.

Rose Hunter’s short stories and poetry can be found in literary many journals, including Word Riot, Juked, Storyglossia, and The Barcelona Review. Links to her work can be found at her blog, Whoever Brought Me Here Will have to Take Me Home. She is also the editor of the online poetry journal, YB. She is from Australia originally, lived in Canada for many years, and now makes her home in Mexico.