Angry Goddess Seeks Similar
from Things I Did While I Was Dead
© Rosie Garland, 2009

Mary! Call the babysitter and let me
take you dancing. You used to be such a mover
before all that God wore you down to milquetoast plastic.
Blow your nose, remind your hips how to shimmy.
Show them how it's done. Stick out your bloody tongue:
I'll lend you my spare necklace of severed heroes' heads,
a set of brand-new steak-knives.
Aren't you sick of their prayers? Their excuses?
Start by smashing what's left of the wedding china;
ink your foot into the earth. Twist rage
into a rope trick and climb through your halo
up to where the dark is giddy. I'm laughing
sequins to light up the dancefloor. Write
your own horoscope. Make this your auspicious day.