Michelle Whalen

Feral is a cat without a home.
    	                                         Feral is a girl left all alone.
 
Latchkey,
            Atari, the little
                         boy ghost.
My brother,
                        the freezer, tongue
                                     frosted the most. 
 
Sacred was a girl all dressed in white.
    	                                       Sacred was the chicken pox for that child bride.
 
             Guilt
                          absolved, pass
           	                      the plate high.
            Sins,
                         confessions,
                                     ice cream cone Christ.
 
Feral is a girl watching pornos at night,
                                                 Sacred are the sitters in her early life.
 
          Wind
                       through the sills,
                                    whistling rattles.
         Playgirl,
                      Tom Selleck,
                                   Cinemax scrambles.
         Satin sheets,
                    	Pink rollers.
                                   Make-up is Annie’s.
       Turnpike
                      noise lulls,
                                  grinding teeth, flannel jammies.
 
        All-skate
                    at Wal-Lex,
                                Friday night meet.
       Handlebar
                   ride home,
                              streetlights to beat.
 
Sacred is Sunday dinner that’s eaten at two.
                                                  A feral fight for charred ends, and a glass of blood, au jus.
 
       Packing, goodbye,
	         triple-decker sold.
                           I took a slice of a tree with a decoupaged Pope.
      Last hope.
                 Lost cottage, home at the Weirs.
                           Family legacy thrown away through projectile tears.
 
Sacred are memories of childhood homes.
                                              Feral is the girl who took a lifetime to roam.
 
                                                                                      Sacrilege is a return to unwelcome tones.
 
Feral is righteous,
 
I will
           not atone.
 
A girl is home now and
                  not alone.