Prose Header

Letters to the Bat

Spilling My Purse at the Airport

by Rebecca Lu Kiernan

Umbrella that pops into
Van Gogh’s “Starry Night”
On the outside,
Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”
On the inside,
Betty Boop bowling socks,
Pink fishnet stockings,
Blue sock monkey on a key chain
With smiling red lips,
Tiny ivory angel in a clear glass marble,
Kangaroo shaped pill case
With spring open pouch,
Lipstick in “Faux Orgasm”,
Dead cobalt bat and white mouse
For the snake,
Wind-up toy tiger
I stole from my attorney’s desk,
Black cat flashlight that blinks S.O.S. in red,
Photo booth strip of our first kiss,
A tektite paperweight to remind me
Some things are built to survive disaster,
Four pairs of glasses:
Hexagon shaped violet for when I want
To look like a rock star, 1.5 readers,
Gold rimmed Steve Maddens
In deep sienna for serious sun,
Giant black Prada Jackie O’s
For when I want to hide,
The letter I did not leave the day I left him,
Under-eye concealer
For my recent darkening,
Frayed hardback of Pushkin’s poetry
From the antiquarian,
Pictures of Lulu in our old yard,
Half of a chocolate hazelnut brownie,
Torn tights from today’s trapeze class,
Disk with 201 photographs
In case my house burns down,
Teddy bear shaped pink post-it note
With “DON’T DO IT!”
Scrawled shakily in black Sharpie,
Hair band with tiny silk daisies
For days when I feel like giving up,
Packet of tissues with imprinted candy hearts,
Blueberry Chapstick, mini-size box of Count Chocula,
Herbal tea forgiveness potion
Of cinchona bark, goathoof,
Arrow root and wild fennel,
Crayon-written note on a parking ticket
Found outside post office
That reads, “What made Elmo snap?”
“Was he tired of Big Bird’s crap?”
Three cell phones, three chargers, two cameras,
One digital, one disposable,
Waterproof to twelve feet under,
Four new charms for my bracelet:
Prehistoric dragonfly preserved in resin,
A shark’s tooth, leprechaun Smurf,
The Coyote’s Acme rocket,
Map of the constellation, Pyxis
Where we agreed to meet Elsewhen,
Map of Draco as a backup plan
In case he time-travels and kills himself on the trip.

Time flies when you’re on the run
From the martyrs and magicians you have been
To the Goddess you might become.

Copyright © 2012 by Rebecca Lu Kiernan

Home Page