The Vin Malaria

The Vin Malaria prose poem

I’ve shared more than blame
These harpies find me
Wandering cargo ships with dagger-eyed cheeks and charm
A gold-fleeced buffalo
Mama said don’t engage
But I can’t short them when they’ve come so far for someone not looking to be found
Ambushing me in motel elevators
Jumping out of drywall and turtle soup
Cuffing me to the May Pole
Taking bites
Getting lost passed back across the swirling barn floor
I’ve tried to settle down
But my wives are always conveniently dying in workplace tragedies
Just in time for bumbly femme fatales to take up my collections case
As if fate wouldn’t be denied it’s chief rabble-rouser
Making waves
Luring little girls into an open wood with tricks of the light
Memorizing nooks on faces carved into the trees
Someone should’ve made boats with them
I guess that’s why I always check the train to see if anyone’s crying before I speak
Can’t make any plain wagers
The real beauties are in sticky Tintin covers
Prodding Titanic menus
Asking father where this China came from
Mistaking the emblazoned halo for me
Chewing the corners of their Rousseauan pillows
On my Malthusian bed
Overlapping chalk outlines forming Gnisha
Seeing vampires in the mirrors
Bats on the chandeliers
It’s hard to dance with ragdolls
But easy to get smothered trying

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