Raylyn Clacher
3 poems
First Date
I’m sorry. I came
to our first date wearing ash
from the last fire.
You gave me three
red balloons. They popped,
spilling spiders
and steam. I never told you
this, but my hands were bored,
the candle was there, my head
was full. The web between
your eyes blazed with a forest
of legs. What other girl
could sit there so calmly,
carry the conversation
while you gasped for water?
The Husband Go-Round
We lined up to watch
long before we were tall enough
to ride. We couldn’t wait to be
hair thrown back, circular and dizzied,
paraded and flowered. We imagined our dresses,
but thought all boys animals, stuck
by a pole through the middle,
apprentices to the lower and rise.
Our mothers told us to get on early,
choose our horse before the good ones
were gone, but they all looked the same –
dapple gray, satin white –
they rose with the same hoof in the air,
the same burden of saddles, the same
wild eyes fixed to the side.
It was the same circle, the same
start and stop point, the same song.
Once you get on, mom said,
the standing world won’t feel the same;
an earth that doesn’t move isn’t worth
being attached to. So what if I let
the brass shine overtake my eyes,
claimed this horse between my legs –
he’s mine –
not yours, not
anyone else’s.
How to Get Rid of Flies
Take their wings.
Wear their ommatidia like a crown.
Divide their vision by seven.
Stack them on the floor
so they know they’ve lost.
Make a carpet of them,
make a field. Make your foot
their God. Let them pray to it,
let them beg mercy as it hovers
between them and the overhead light,
let it take hold like an eclipse.
Let them smell the froth
of guts on the kitchen floor.
Let them bathe in the blood
of their brethren, let your victory
christen the new home. Smash them
in methodical circles but leave one –
open the door and let him escape,
let the memory of this day
enter the collective consciousness.
Let him go forth and speak
of the woman in the blue house,
tell those outside never to enter.
Raylyn Clacher is a poet, mother, and teacher living in Wichita, Kansas. Her chapbook, All of Her Leaves, was published by dancing girl press in 2015. Her poems and book reviews have appeared in journals such as the South Dakota Review, New Orleans Review, and burntdistrict, among others.