James Butcher
if you say it enough
it starts to mean something
(a minotaur tale)
the horse was tethered when i
saw the tethered horse
almost as if they thought it was
an unruly creature in need of
a lesson
when they were teaching me a lesson
they tethered me to a stake in the
ground like a horse or another
unruly creature with four long legs
but i still had my sterling mane
that is what i meant to tell them
but i couldn’t yell that loud
because i was tethered
and they were on the other side
of the mountain
i wasn’t tethered because i was an
unruly child i was tethered because
i was old and gray so they put me
out to pasture
when i was tethered it felt like i was
being chastised by a cruel school
marm with a crooked finger
in a one room schoolhouse
i remember that the sky was blue
because when i tilted my tethered
head to the swirling heavens i
couldn’t find a single fluffy cloud
it was tethered to a metal stake that
someone had pounded into the ground
with a heart full of vengeance
they thought they were teaching us
one thing but they ended up teaching
us another thing
dopamine
i was trying to compose myself
so i could be the laudatory man
that you wanted me to be
is not an uncommon statement
indeed it is the type of statement
that a disappointing son might make
to an infuriated father or a conniving
husband might make to a trusting wife
but i was saying it to myself
you see
or more accurately i was saying it
to my brooding conscience which i
imagine to be a scurrying little man
with a withering stare that inhabits
the inner sanctum of my troubled
mind like a wrathful god in need
of attention
and this little man is a greasy little
man
is what you need to understand
he is a greasy little man that doesn’t
brush his teeth and slicks his hair
with drooling saliva
and (if that weren’t enough)
the thing that makes this greasy little
man so (utterly) repugnant is that he
derives his (delirious) pleasure from
planting scattered seeds of doubt in the
darkened corners (of my troubled mind)
like a demented version of johnny appleseed
with a conniving little smile
lassitude
i was suffering from a psychogenic form
of hebetude so my thoughts were dark
and noctilucent
when you saw me
said doris
1. a lead balloon means a complete and total failure
2. i told you the yellow daisies were withering
but you wouldn’t listen
3. he absconded with my innocence and then he
scarpered with my love
4. when i told you i was looking for a modicum
of kindness you called me an antediluvian fool
5. her lips were a vinaceous shade of red but her
heart was a caesious clump of gray
6. when the acacia tree was blooming it smelled like
a mellifluous pot of ambrosial honey
7. i was trying to collect my obstreperous thoughts
because they were noisy and clamorous and boisterous
8. they are assiduous some of the time and duplicitous
most of the time
9. i told you i was an agonist but you didn’t believe me
10. where did you put my acacia tree
11. when your mind is a juberous puddle of recalcitrant
thoughts you feel muddled and inebriated
12. i was looking for a cloistered place to collect my
querulous thoughts
when you saw me
double life
no one knows why delores is standing on
this deserted piece of land with a cryptic
smile on her kind and loving face in this
weathered and dog eared photo taken in
july of nineteen sixty four and because we
don’t know why she is standing on this
deserted piece of land it makes us feel as
though we didn’t know delores as well as
we thought we knew delores (and to put this
in the proper context) you should know that
delores was a faithful wife to tobias and an
affectionate mother to jennifer and gallagher
and a doting aunt to adelaide and theodore
and she sang in the methodist choir and she
tended to the needy in a quiet and inconspicuous
manner which is all to say that there was nothing
about delores that would have led us to believe
that she was anything other than the darling
delores that we knew and loved until we
saw this dog eared photo of her standing
on this unknown piece of land smiling this
cryptic smile
James Butcher has had recent work published in Prick of the Spindle, Rivet, Cream City Review, Midwest Review, and Burningword Literary Journal.