Dynasty

By Gary Lemons

I talk to the orchids on my kitchen

Counter most days—ask forgiveness of them—

Understand they are lost and far from home

And alone in alien soil with smells

Of meat in their stamens and dogs barking

And timers going off—I do my best

To make my world a jungle where they grow

Their pale flowers and die warm in the steam

Coming off kettles and dinner plates.

I can’t look at anything anymore

Without seeing the bones under the skin—

The lips of the ventriloquist moving—

The hunger in everything wants out—

Held hostage to the coming bite—

I place the fallen brown petals in the unmarked

Grave of my poem where no one can disturb

The mad flowers of the exiled king.

Copyright Credit: Gary Lemons, "Dynasty" from The Weight of Light. Copyright © 2017 by Gary Lemons. Reprinted by permission of Red Hen Press.

Source: The Weight of Light (Red Hen Press, 2017)