Ugly Names
Oh, hope your parents
do not foist upon you one of these!
Revolting mushrooms of the creeping earth,
the jarring of skulls and delighted mania brine.
Stifling combinations slammed together,
the lettered alphabet.
Vultured playing cards worn through with
the loss of inferior hands, yes,
a face could be a name, a building of winking
gargoyles, the liquid stampedes:
you have to have a name, there is no way
around it, a way to say you are not all the others;
some others, perhaps, but never all –
you are a slosh of fragments, an estrangement
of elephantine themes.
The coven witches curse your parents
before you can, cherish the moly of holies…
You are the visions of spectators – an automatic queen.
What slimes out of ugly terrors, but another name
to learn and know?
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many mounds of snow. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Fixator Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.