Harpy’s Quietus
This is for Christa Pike, who had a botched state execution. I had a last minute reprieve and called the governor yesterday to see if she could get clemency. She got a stay of execution by another court and then they attempted to kill her last night, though she seems still alive after everything. I had sympathy for her, though I understand how deeply disturbing her crime was.
By Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 7 days ago • 1 min read
Photo by Jevgeni Fil on Unsplash
Where the blood pools
In crystalline form it possesses
The Harpy quarrels with Death
They do not play chess
The quietus
discharges from the slumber of the pool
The deep, the deep warm pool
Deaths quashes the Harpy’s talons, “She is quit,”
Death doesn’t rhyme.
“la petite mort” the Harpy croaks out.
The man with no face takes the mirror to our own faces
Overwhelmed by the chill of The Little Death
The Harpy steals her death from under our feet
Singing a song that the sea swells, the sea swells, the sea cries.
Then it pulls back, like the sea was held by strings,
The la petite mort gasping,
The tears shrinking
The whole air stinging of smoky, soft silence.
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