Sunday, November 29, 2015

Between the Sepals

my pink petals darkened brown 
I thought for the sin of my unwashed hands. 
Barbie doll romantic reenactments
 always terminated in taboo 
Georgia O’Keefe finger painting.

When I first saw a lady slipper in the woods, 
I knew it had nothing to do with shoes,
 unless you’re talking pumps, just for the sound of it. 
it has a labellum,
 just say it slow and sultry like with your honey sweet lips.
And of course bellum is Latin for war.

A phalaenopsis orchid:
phalaina from Greek, meaning moth
but I see a soft phallus in the word, spelled more prettily.
I mean it has a tiny nub
called a column, and therefore
columns in common flowers are 
called the stigma, 
and that’s what I certainly had,
with my boy-bruised petals 
back in a spring equinox that was never equal. 
Maybe Aristotle knew what he was talking about
when he used opsis to mean final tragedy,
because everyone knows moths aren’t as good
as butterflies.

Receptacle, they brand the 
swollen segment beneath the blossom.
Doesn’t the flower sound so used now? 
No worries,
they tell me it went willingly
 to all the bees that desired it 
 and it’s not the bees fault 
the flowers bloomed with such
alluring submission.
There have always been too many bees to count.

How funny that bees save their cultish devotion for only one 
of their stature
which is never a flower.

over stroked metaphors of flora 
turn feral fauna I suspect
if you read between the sepals.
--Lara L.

1 comment:

  1. Great imagery, showing the beauty of nature and the misery of human nature. Really liked it!