Betrayal

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I leave the room for one second

and I come back to see your cock slamming into her.

You definitely weren’t thinking about me. Selfish, greedy pig!

To make things worse.

You defended her feeble excuses, tried to twist it around and make it my fault, then you left – with her.

Somehow I’m a user. A psychopath with no friends? Go figure.

You were such a disappointment. Still are.

I see your cock inside her, thrusting hard and I can’t bare to touch you or trust.

Betrayal was never a part of us or what we had. ‘I hope you’re happy now’, was another thing you said.

It’s a waiting game from here on in, till we say goodbye and start again.

It was over before it began really. I knew deep down already, you were just too good to be true. Part of me kept hoping but it’s too late for me now.

I’ll do all my grieving before we say goodbye, so I dont have to think about you then. It won’t be pleasant either, but I’ll take what I can get.

I’ll still wish you the best but I’ll never go there again.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

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Most Days

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“I’m in my garden planting, weeding or harvesting.” JD Butler

1.

Most days I want to die.

My heart breaks

over the most

stupidest of things.

My thoughts tell me I am not

strong enough

pretty enough

skinny enough

feminine enough

kind enough

friendly enough

sexy enough

compassionate enough

caring enough or

rich enough.

My brain tells me I’m too

moody

angry

sad

depressed

anxious

ugly

scared

fragile

emotional

weak

unpredictable

unstable

flighty

and fickle.

My brain tells me to think

the worst of every situation, interpret every thing as an

attack

snide remark

slur

corner

lie

deception or

ulterior motive.

I really shouldn’t take things so personally.

Others think I’m too

Sexual

Slutty

Useing

Abusing

Needy and

Crazy.

I guess

that’s why he told me I have no friends.

Most days I can’t stand it any more.

I’m too much of every thing or not enough.

I wish I was never born.

/

I’m ok on a good day, but I struggle. Demons,

in my waking hours, have a go at me for every-little-thing that ever was.

How, do I continue to survive?

Most days, I just want to die.

2.

Some days I feel happy.

content

pleased

proud

relaxed

calm

and secure.

I’m in my garden planting, weeding or harvesting.

And I think about what else I want to do.

Paint

draw

read

make

sculpt

weld

and create.

Money holds me back so I continue watering the garden.

Some days I feel optimistic.

I am convinced I’m going to get that job,

find that financial independence,

not go back to sex work although I miss it terribly.

Some days I don’t think about

pain

loss

fear

humiliation

rejection

or torment.

I’m numb, but at least I’ve stopped

shaking in my boots,

jumping all over the place,

looking around every 5 fucking seconds

or wanting to run.

Some days I feel hope that I won’t

take my life

end up on the streets

be alone and lonely

have no friends

have no lover

or find love.

Whats wrong with me?

I live with trauma, fuck up daily and behave like a bitch –

and I dont think I can be fixed

sometimes.

Some days I’m OK.

I smile

laugh

joke

play

make love

not war.

I try not to let the voices win. I try to

bite my tongue

shut my mouth

hold back tears

try my best

please my man

and stop complaining.

I try not to wait for the end, although I push everyone away – my deluded saving grace

is more likely cutting off my nose, to spite my face.

Some days I think I will survive.

But most days, I still want to die.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Soul Searching

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Desire.

Manifest in music, love, people and places.

A heart-throbbing beat to a rhythm only Demeter knows, her secrets etched into her bones. Intricate carvings honed into marrow, and stem cells multiply like a plague of disgruntled wasps.

Anger.

That sudden rush of indignation, followed by a concoction of vengeance and vindication – abdication and a refusal to surrender. Hades infiltrates Persephone, her abduction an embodiment of everything war, consumed in his indifference.

People.

All that is love and all that is hate, two halves of the same coin and no one escapes joy, ecstasy, grief and pain. You can run but you can’t hide – everyone has to pay Charon to get into the after life.

Temperance.

Biting tongues, letting go, being the better person, swallowing those hard lumps and walking away relatively unscathed by comparison. There will always be someone who offends and someone who is offended. Which came first?

Balance.

Good and bad, black and white, up and down, left or right. Choices and free will all come at a cost. Pros and cons, rights and wrongs; there is only compromise, but that middle ground remains as grey as the ghost it inhabits. A visceral, haunting entity.

Atonement.

As elusive as the Holy Grail, hidden inside Pandoras Box in a chapel somewhere in Africa. Peace is not what Hades is about, his warmongering lust for grandiose self-entitlement takes no prisoners. Still, Zeus brokered a deal for his part in Demeters wrath and Persephones demise.

Death

and rebirth – the Fates will have their way and so the cycle continues.

Torture


© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

A Mummers Dance: Demeters Descent into Hades

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What will become of her?

The three Fates furiously pull Demeters hair / dragging resistance, weaving fistfuls of slate grey strands into knots through gnarled fingers. She struggles to break free.

Their mummers puppet, refusing to stay a decision, deciding that nothing can be done that hasn’t been done before.

Demeter in her craven mind, reluctantly resigns & begins her inevitable descent into death / succubus airs sliding down around those slippery steps like a mortal wound.

What terrible unknown awaits?

Letting go, becoming a ghoulish nightmare / a back-lashing monologue of regret that terrifies her waking hours leaving nothing else to be desired.

Oh the fury!

How ill-equipped her gaze, stripped bare of stippled ends & brushed strokes / all hope is lost, perished in the long-black-abyss of eternal sleep.

She remembers Persephone, in her full bodied beauty & wails at the indignity of brittle bones & a peeling river of flesh falling from her ancient body, with every maudlin step.

Demeter stumbles. Trips. Her fall from grace crash landing at her own feet / anything is better than another mask, in the pantomime of lifes abomination.

She finally meets Persephones gaze / a ravaged maniacal stare, steady amongst the carnage of after-birth strewn all about her.

There is no escape.

It’s here her malicious appendages thrash / manipulating moans & pathetic misery, chaos finally falling on deaf ears.

If the end must come, make it swift!

/

A hard, fast jolt into the after-life, where the ambrosia of a ravaged soul is drained from existence / that rancid elixir of a life less loved, can finally be laid to rest

& lost for all eternity.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Fucking Curlews

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The Curlews

are at it again,

raping

my subconscious

dreams,

reaching in to amplify

frustration, chorused

high

pitched

screams;

resonances, having their

wanton way

while I jerk

upright,

ears jolted into present

tense,

strangle-choke hold

on reality,

biting down on

tongues &

sticky beaks,

gang-banging an alarm

clock

choosing to snooze

or lose,

passion dying a savage

kind of pseudo

death,

figments of my

imagination; bent

over the

bed.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Astral Dissociation & the Unattainable Cryogenic Pathway to the Stars

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“Who gives a fuck anyway? This makes no sense at all to anyone with amnesia” JD Butler

Give me a .50 calibre assault weapon & I’ll show you how it’s done properly!

*

I’m from New Zealand & I can still marvel at the Milky Way, navigate my eyes toward the Southern Cross & find South in a flash.

Orion has a huge belt and scabbard & it still makes no sense; forbidden clichès sneaking up like a sniper in a sonnet.

What matters, is that poetry is devoid of faux pars & bright stars or anything obviously too subliminal for the masses that may require a deeper space continuum to ponder, an intellect that uses advanced thought to communicate,

falling on deaf & dying stereocilia hairs. Ears, to those who need further clarification, while my advanced alien brain sits within a universe only the top 2% of the world’s population can grasp.

The bourgeoisie cream themselves over it, while they play with their pencil & sharpener.

/

Poetry is only for those with a university education – an English degree, followed by a Diploma in Counselling & a Master of Creative Writing (an advanced degree with Honours). A PhD means power has been attained & is now ready to weild.

We, are merely stepping stones to someone else’s grandiose glory. Poverty & distress are relegated to the past, hidden in a black hole; inertia becoming the internalised abuser. Orion was once the great cosmic overlord,

looking down his nose.

/

Better not piss off the editor either, she’s next in line followed closely by someone we all know & love with his proverbial nose shoved up both of their arses.

Who gives a fuck anyway? This makes no sense at all to anyone with amnesia, but it is my way of creatively dying; poetic suicidal justice, is in a league all of it’s own.

*

Now, you’ll all have fodder for your next project fail & that makes me

an evil genius.
© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Conversant

Spank

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“She will always lay down the spank & attempt to ignite your bright sparks…” JD Butler

I laid down the spank today, allowing my indignation to spontaneously combust. I exploded & so did he, backfiring.

My flame fired up appropriately ~ something didn’t sit quite well, was unethical, insensitive or just plain ignorant & I refused to douse 

exceptions even now, although I risked being scorched ~ my truth, just too damn hot to handle, those nerves, just too damn uncomfortable; neuron’s,

doing some sort of defensive martial arts’ move off the back of a band wagon, straight into the proverbial bonfire; my face, red 

eyes burning embers, boring into the heart of the matter, without blinking once.

My flame, extinguished in the end but it wasn’t all for nothing & I wasn’t inebriated, so I guess there was no excuse to offer up. I also refuse, 

to apologise for my inner bitch. She will always lay down the spank & attempt to ignite your bright sparks, while you listen & learn.

*

You know it works both ways. I’d happily lie ~ across your knees while you give me a serve.

© Copyright 2018, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Conjure

All Those Times

All those times you wanted a home for the family and when I bought one, you didn’t like it and I felt disappointed

All those times you stalked me around the house and picked the locks, and I was afraid

All those times you cornered me, hurling foul put downs, till I stuffed my fingers in my ears to protect myself

All those times you told me I was loopy, a slut, a whore – a loopy slut whore and I was hurt

All those times you kicked open the door to pin me to the bed in a fit of rage, and I was struck dumb

All those times you pressured me to buy an investment property instead of renovating the house because you were plotting way back then and I felt betrayed

All those times you moved out, damaging property as you went. It hurt your youngest more than me, when you painted over her beautiful mural and I felt sad

All those times you misled me, hiding behind your Samsung, and your daughter for cover, conjuring plans to deceive and I was manipulated

All those times you spoke ill of me in front of others, your son and my friends – your friends and family and I felt ashamed

All those times you hid your cash, pleading poverty and gutted the

business and I trusted you

All those times you forbade me to enter our shop, and denied you wanted it for yourself and your daughter and I was controlled

All those times you refused to finish my tattoo’s, claiming you were too busy but not too busy for your daughters’ and I was left with rubbish

All those times you said you would draw me a portrait (like yours) and have it tattooed, but you didn’t have enough money even though I gave it to you

All those times you wanted me to go back to work, promising me you could handle it, but you couldn’t and it was my fault

All those times you withdrew your sex, claiming you could go without and I felt unwanted

All those times you accused me of fucking the neighbour, tradies, my boss, anyone and got upset because I sat too close to my ex and I withdrew

All those times you threatened to expose my client, and pounded on the apartment door and I was embarrassed

All those times you judged my friends, for no apparent reason and said they were damaged and I felt damaged

All those times I warned you not to stop taking your medication suddenly, but you did and became abusive and you told your daughter but I was deceived

All those times you resented my money, but took it anyway promising to pay it all back but you had other plans

All those times you said you would do anything for me, then complain you were my slave and I felt trapped

All those times you maligned your ex, your ex wife, your family and those who had crossed you, detailing your revenge and I felt scared

All those times you lied, gas lighting me to my face and Police, to make me doubt myself and instill madness and I became anxious

All those times you said you adored me, meaning as long as I shut my mouth and did as you expected and I went quiet

All those times you said you could never hurt me like your ex’s, because you loved me, giving me a false sense of security and I became depressed

All those times you stole our customers and redirected them to your personal email, yet I was silly for imagining it and I felt set up

All those times you put your personal email on our business pages, but it must have been me and I felt confused

All those times you damaged my property and denied it and allowed your daughter to do it too and I felt ganged up on

All those times you instructed your daughter to remove texts, business files and photographs from my phone and laptop, stating you knew nothing about it, and I felt tricked

All those times you refused to allow me to give a gift voucher to my friends and family, but you said family is always free and I felt nothing

All those times you withdrew your youngest daughter from me, assigning the mother role to your teenage daughter, leaving me outcast

All those times you washed your car, thrice, but wouldn’t wash mine and I felt insignificant

All those times you expected me to cook, but said you loved cooking your special diet anyway but I felt guilty

All those times you failed to communicate in texts for fear of litigation, so we agreed to delete them frequently so they couldn’t be used, but you secretly kept them and I was blind

All those times you said you wanted nothing to do with bikies, their associates or the security crew but you were in cahoots with them the whole time and I feel threatened

All those times you told me it only cost $5000 to get rid of someone and I asked you to stop talking like that, but you didn’t and I felt intimidated

All those times and more, happened but you have your own reasons for behaving this way, after all

You were angry

Transcript
© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved

Murder & Mayhem

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I’m not preaching
But I am being true to

My self. There is
Murder and mayhem.

I asked for it. I asked
For learning,

Mourning views
At the ocean

Tasman Sea side, beside
my de-railed train.

Smart. Taking stock
Taking measures.

Working it all out
Through trial

And error’s; Finding pride
Empowering

*

Fuck mainstream
Stigmata up the arse!

I say. In the carnage,
In the afterglow

Of my Fukashima.
My sub-woofers’ set

To subvert you
From your dissonance

Apathy
Hatred

Denial there is a war. I choose
Resistance

And by God –
You will remember!

Fuck the world
For me

Lest We Forget

Peter Dutton

© Copyright 2016, Jodine Derena Butler. ‘Poetry Out West’, All Rights Reserved

Infuse

Snapshot

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Photographer: _foto_in_vivo
‘Metamorphosis’

Because you pushed
Me away
You said
Looking in, forgetting
Conveniently what
Snapped at me
Before
And I asked you
Not to talk to me
That way

I’m afraid
It will become
A daily occurrence
Because you don’t
Respect me
Enough to treat
Me with love
And kindness

I watched you treat
Your mother
With contempt
Before
But maybe
You’ve found someone
Else to take
The blame
For your anger
And pain

Where do we fit
In to the grand
Scheme of things?
Marriage
A family
A home
A lover
A friend
Is it all to be
For nothing less
Than another
End?

I know you are hurt
In chronic pain
Everyday
I watch you
Pacing, shifting
Moving, frustrated
And bored
You can’t
Or won’t settle
And you distance
Yourself
Defensive over
Nothing
I can do for you

How can you find love?
When fear
Is driving you
To lash out
At me
Only me
When I love you
And I can’t do anything
To fix this
Torture and
Torment

Let it go
Softness is strength
Tears are healing
Together we can
Learn to trust
And fall in love
Again

‘Hurt’ by Johnny Cash (Nine Inch Nails)

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler & ‘Poetry Out West’.  All Rights Reserved

Collaboration

Dancing with the Faeries

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Photographer: Jason Majewski

Photo used with permission

I watch my littlest princess
dancing away with the faeries
expressing pain so magnificently

her voice, exploding anger
her mind, opposing self
her heart, barely beating

my mind-splitting headache pounds
containing my own maelstrom
that subterranean refuge

where I once found comfort
where there was none
where my soul learned to fly

holding on, innocence
letting go & spirituality guiding
me back home

I hold her now, meet her gaze
no words cling to each other
we plant flowers in the earth

tending our garden, nurturing our selves
her pain temporarily reconciled
my own thunderous affront subdued

I don’t let her see my pain,
I protect her, I love her like I love
my self, mirrored back in her eyes

I watch her from afar
she knows I’m there on the outskirts
her nice stepmother, soothsayer

I can watch & bear, witness
one step removed my fire
unseared, tempered in her presence

I am not a fool, knowing transference
like God, is everywhere & no
where at once, I remain steadfast

she heals me, my littlest princess
igniting my candelabra
rays of warmth piercing the dark

she will be ok with love, gentle
strokes; my cradle rocking a rhythm
peace descending around her to nest

I can watch although I didn’t then
but I can see clearly now, the rain
I trust my self to know the difference

dissociation & dissociative
here in the now my mindfulness
my present is my gift to her

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Descend

For My Children

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1.
I miss you both
It saddens me, that you hold on
with such contempt
that I must wait for you
to grow, make peace with yourselves
in order to find forgiveness
in others, in me

2.
I was not a perfect mother
I don’t know anyone who is
except in our minds,
which compare; an apropos
of nothing really

One thing you can both be sure of
is that I do my very best
with the ancient tools I was given
with dedication & commitment
to myself, to raise you both better
better than I had ever known
or been shown of love
& I love you both deeply

3.
The women in our family carry a curse
I believe, still being passed down
Great Grandmother to Grandmother,
Grandmother to Granddaughter,
Mother to Daughter – witnessed
eyes knowing cruel contempt
for women

Somehow the trauma each of us
experienced, experiences
real, imagined or embellished harm
passed down through our DNA
our nature
through our environments
our nurture
trying to show us the wisdom
to know the difference

It is a blessing
your tenacity, persistence
& determination
fight to right those wrongs
letting go the past moving on
steadfast in search of that love
you desire

Our cells remember
the past lives of our ancestors
those crossed paths imprinted
on our mind, body & soul
power & passion
did not escape unscathed; scarred
permanently
our heart skipped many beats

We observe each other
observed by our men (& women),
surviving their own stories,
our selves attract to ourselves
psyche healing vicariously
most of the time, everyone
learning to find peace, love
happiness taking its time –
but don’t be fooled by pride
awareness is awry, warning

I do my best to break this cycle
not expose you to harm
triggered reactions lead us astray
our nautical compass
navigates storms, skewiff
I cling to my internal lifesaver
lest I drown at sea

My own mother is a farce
painfully denied & despised
tea leaves attempt to predict failure
our grandmothers are responsible
for nothing but vindication
like her mothers mother’s mother

I am your mother
you came from my body
you are of my blood
I love you,
my mother could never say that
once, in past tense
once, in goodbye

4.
I refused to drink
drunkenness hurt me more than ever
in the past, I was scared

I refused to drug
& I was spiked for my efforts, in vain
I learned his true psychedelic colours

I refused to parade men; a room
full of strangers, who could
watch & wait for those opportune moments…

I must have failed
I feel like a failure, ashamed of myself
ashamed of you both at times too
but only because I see how it could end

I warn you about danger
from yourself from others
predators in the world prey
dark & destroyed souls
seek nothing but instant gratification
self-righteous justification
anger is violence
no excuse is proffered up
& we are all culpable to some degree

5.
I am a strong woman
I feel very deeply the injustices
of others, of yours, of mine
I only have myself to chastise
& you, that part of me I protect
in my mind

I am harder on myself
my self is much harder to bear
I expect much more than vengeance
to ease our hurt awakening anger
we need love & kindness
I only want the best for you, for me

I am also very proud of you both
I see two beautiful, independent
headstrong women, myself
on a good day
I want you to be happy, exude warmth
I need you to love me, back
the way I loved you, back then
when we would all laugh & play
when we all had our innocence & joy
I want you both to come home

6.
I feel pain of the most heinous kind
happiness eludes me most days
searching, my self finds traces
of her, that little girl that became
lost in the ethereal space between
what was & what could have been
she separated parts of her self
doted & despised, both
in continual conflict

I have memories, denied versions of truth
I struggle to reconcile – I feel violated
I despise lies & deceit, power & control
I wrestle with such terrifying demons
who tempt me to trust & I am often
mistaken – I no longer believe it exists
on a bad day

7.
My fear became terror
when they both laughed
& came for me in my corner
I was held down while the soap stick
ripped through me
turning me inside & out
as I floated away
I was 4

My cat could have been shot
in front of me
he held up the gun, she held
the cat steady
“do you think the bullet will go
straight through?”
I was 5 or 6

My life could have been over
when I choked
but he said “she’s not my kid”
I pulled the sinewy gristle out
by myself spewing onto my plate
I was 6

He told me I was ugly
unwanted, unloved
I should never have been born
but I had a guardian
He told me “it’s meant to be this way,
it won’t be like this forever”
I was 6 or 7

My body knew pleasure before
it knew pain, before he touched me
& my spirit carried me
away to safety
I was 8

I watched him
his violence incarcerating those cows
chained, their backbones
smashed with a galvanized pipe
they had no where to go
I remember blood pouring from sores
like an avalanche
I was 8 or 9

My eyes saw the Sheep’s throat cut
with a blunt knife
he held our heads together
forcing us to watch, laughing
I was 10

I might have felt loved
if I wasn’t told it was the worst day
of my mother’s life when I was born
on my birthday
I was 13

His brother was a sneak
he came into my bedroom
he tried, I failed in his eyes
his brother’s too
though he was blind
I was 16

I trusted him
the Blue Mountains forever etched
into my brain
it was midnight
“if you don’t…I will leave you here
& they will find your body”
there was a cyclone in 1984
I was 16 then too

Death, like Charon is ever present
He resides beside & inside us
He will happily take us one way or another
if we let Him
I refuse to pay although I am tempted
He doesn’t give a shit at the end of the day
so don’t waste time entertaining him
or sway your hips to his tune

8.
My heart only ever loved one man
My Grandfather
I never knew my Father, not
until I was 17
& now I don’t want to know
because violence is not OK for you two
but I must have deserved it

I might be his daughter
but he only raised boys
he doesn’t know how much
daughters need their Fathers
you both need your Father
I needed my Father

I knew this, then & now
I never withheld them from you
I fought for them as much as for you
so that they understood
how to love, the girls who would become women
so you can recognise a gift
when you see it
& trust

9.

We all watch the slow erosion of her innocence, see her wrestle in defiance

like I saw you, like I saw myself
she is my light & she heals me
her gentle softness radiating like a Halo
I heal her, my nurture having been
honed because of you, thank you

11.
I love you both with all my heart

It is no coincidence Karma
your boys will teach you everything
else you need to know
perhaps the curse is broken?
It was always meant for you
to become
the beautiful mother that you are
please understand, your boys
need me as much as I need them

Leisa, whether you like it or not
you are an extension of my self
I feel very proud of you & of myself
pain is like fire, it burns
I prefer to view my fire as a controlled burn
as part of nature’s regeneration
it makes way for new growth,
stronger roots & solid ground
I need you
as much as you need me

© Copyright 2015, Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

Sewer Rats & Wood Snakes

Shove it all down
shove it down
shove it
all

all – is not well 
in the OK corral.

transactions are flawed
analysis is weak
subterfuge cowers in corners
colluding behind cardboard walls 
in the safety zone

I get my back up
I want to be defiant
I want more than ever 
to say NO
just to piss you off!

Give me one good reason to feel
alienated, subjugated
discounted

reduced
to your
pa-
the-
tic

whimper

I want to scream
& jab
& smash
& rip the optic nerves
right out of your filtered
monochrome 1950’s
TV screen
head

stretch them into sinewy strings
that snap\
back/
like  rubber bands\
& slap/
you\
in the face/

Look at me
Look at me

Look at you –
weak knee’d
lily livered
coward of a man
hiding behind my emotions

wily wood snake

sizing up rats &
other small
rodents

watching

waiting

manipulating

/

that damn sewer
rat never
had a
chance.

© Copyright 2010 Jodine Derena Butler.  All Rights Reserved

In My Face (Relationship Series)

‘Gimme the money!’

he said
in my face
my face staring straight
long lashes pointing like cutty grass
sharpening a knife

‘Gimme the keys!’

she said
between two unfinished corners
footsteps sidestepping a rusty nail
tripping over indignity
as it crawled between the wall space
catacombs

‘Gimme the fucking money!’
‘Gimme the fucking keys!’

a grab, a push and a shove
takes the piss, misses the bowl by a mile
handbags with long straps are useless.
Max was only vinyl like a 45
with a great big hole in the middle
only good for one thing

my arm hurts my shoulder plug
ripped from its wall socket
my power bill standing on end
like the hairs on the back of my neck
I guess he got the money
I can’t figure out where I put the keys

© Copyright 2009 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

Sycophantic Juggernaut 

back to back
fused spinal columns
an unorthodox
paradigm
shift(ing)

displaced jaw
a grind of bones
and teeth
(re) fused
together unyielding

Orion’s milky
sheets
starched stiff
clean in
crinkled embraces

an excuse
unconsciously
ironed flat
a greasy haired
yellow pout

a tight lipped
sycophantic
juggernaut
imploding
premature breath

quashed embers
flaming
subservience
married and
ugly

buried where
whores and
die
pass judgement
and skeleton keys

jingle

© 2009 Jodine Derena Butler. All Rights Reserved

First Published, Live Lines, volume 4, Anthology, 2011,  ISBN: 11787767, Poetry Live, http://www.poetrylive.co.nz/live-lines.html