Miss Red Jacket Digs

Miss Red Jacket
layered
red threaded
protected

found four chances
dug them
out of the sand
distinct
diamonds

four different
slants
similar

polar opposites
yet
parallel

four unique prints
inked
on
black and white

printed
nearly tattoo’d

she chooses a rock
dug out of the dirt
in
needle park

veined purple
swallow’s grandma’s stew
grandma’s eyes
grandpa’s semen
anything
for black tar
fire spoons
and
a blanket in Needle Park

Miss Red Jacket
misses
firm
athletic
blood tubes
that act as an overcoat
laying
over layers

Horse pipes have
wrapped her
soft  spot
for
the last of
their life time

he
with blood tubes
plucked
from dirt
in needle park

a diamond
uncleaned
uncut
melting banknotes
wages

melting mud
puddles in
metal necks

skinny little pricks
sucking
mud puddles dry

pushing
pushing destruction
deep
into her
thick red
shield

pushing
pushing red threads
to distress

unthreading
unravelling

leaving
a naked woman
with nothing
but a
dirty
rock

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28 thoughts on “Miss Red Jacket Digs

  1. Good Lord! You have taken up a very large (and heavy) mantle. I applaud you for your willingness to dig deep into the festering wounds our society tries to keep bandaged and covered with make-up. Air it out, and drain the pus, love. You’re rocking it out (and, yes I think a book from you is needed).

    • I quite agree….I should not attempt writing when I’m sick. My brain will not latch on to the words and the story….bleh..I’ll fix later! I thank you for your criticism my friend! Very helpful!

    • Agreed on the last line. Other than that one flaw, I adore this poem! The rhythm, especially at the beginning, just drew me in and wouldn’t let go (much like the subject matter)

  2. It’s an interesting one isn’t it… Hmmmm. I personally don’t have an issue with the ending. The “rock” is a solid image, literally and metaphorically… it carries a potentially fatal violence and/or finality that felt appropriate to finish such a narrative of horror and suffering. A rock can cave in a skull after all… Or is that a whole other poem? 😉

  3. Not sure whether addiction causes self-loathing, or if self-loathing leads to addiction, but the two usually go hand-in-hand. Thanks for digging deep sharing your poetry.

  4. You poetry is so dark, sounds like an abused person or a needle junky, which is about the same thing. I hope you’ve learned that destroying yourself never gets you anything that you want. I had to learn that the hard way, and almost lost my life in the study. Now, the years go by and I don’t take drugs at all anymore. I haven’t even had a beer in a long time, either. My life goes on in a much healthier vein now.

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