Born for the Job
for all the harpies
Pensive, that look she had,
part introspective, part tending
feelings both black and red
about the chores she must do.
Out in what no man will—
the lightning and thunder.
Bodies tossed at random.
Her wings on a mission
through the contused clouds.
I knew she had never wanted
any of it. Counting the dead,
regurgitating curses at councilors,
unleashing her rugged hair
from its net and combing
it with her long talons, snatching
her wily prey in their hooks.
I imagined her drinking tea
and reading Wollstonecraft.
~
Luanne Castle's poetry and prose have appeared in Copper Nickel, River Teeth, JMWW, Grist, Fourteen Hills, Verse Daily, and many more. She has published four award-winning poetry collections. She is resolute in her search for the hidden mysteries and magic of existence.
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