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Quick, To The Hothouse
Jane Flett dancing girl press, 2012 $7.00 Jane Flett was awarded the Scottish Book Trust New Writer Award in 2009 and promptly quit her job managing a music venue in order to spend more time swanning around in a silk bathrobe, tinkering away at words and playing synthpunk cello in a gameboy band. Unfortunately, this has proved to be less lucrative than expected. This Cowgirl’s Lament A tornado and peacock were bred in his paddock; the couple gave birth to a turquoise lasso. It lapped round my heart, soft as oil, iridescent, and I gave up right then on stacked shelves and school. I fled to a ranch that was smitten with roses, where buttercups bucked amongst horses and whips. I learned to smoke Camels which glowed red at sunset, a circle of fire like a solar eclipse. My cowboy drank moonshine and kissed like a comet his lips were chipotle, his tongue was cayenne. He blacked both my eyes for a bet with the mountains and locked my heart out of his opium den. I guess he was a Mustang, his temperament feral, he needed horizons upon which to roam. When I scattered my Tarot, it came up the Priestess, so I bandaged my bleeding, and headed for home. |
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Given / Emiliegh Barnes