Cell Block Tango
By Avra Margariti
A lullaby—seductive, hypnopaedic—slinks
through the high security ward
of the women’s prison.
Morrigan, the phantom queen
whistling between sharp teeth her very own
Cell Block Tango, banshee call
to arms. The doors all open wide
locks broken, passwords hacked, guard
uniforms painted red with life, never to
be washed clean again.
The inmates run, rubber soles over steel
and concrete, spilling through the courtyard
under the watchful eye of priestess Crow.
High on moonlight, bacchanal
the inmates dance like willow boughs
in the midst of a tornado.
They’ll drink the prison van’s gas for wine,
poison shared between thirsty lips,
cinereous uniforms set
on fire.
They’ll wear ferns for clothes,
or their skins
for clothes, or their bones—
their bones they will at last set free.
Avra Margariti is a queer author, Greek sea monster, and Pushcart-nominated poet with a fondness for the dark and the darling. Avra’s work haunts publications such as Vastarien, Asimov’s, Liminality, Arsenika, The Future Fire, Space and Time, Eye to the Telescope, and Glittership. The Saint of Witches, Avra’s debut collection of horror poetry, is forthcoming from Weasel Press. You can find Avra on twitter @avramargariti.
Photo by Chris via a Creative Commons license.
Note from Writers Resist: If you appreciate creative resistance and would like to support it, you can make a small, medium or large donation to Writers Resist from our Give a Sawbuck page.
