Insect-toothed woman - Madison McSweeney

insect-toothed crone trudges to the market
    seven lives weighing on
    her shoulders, her ox straining 
    under the weight of her cart of junk;
faintly glowing baubles and rotting scraps of cloth;
rats nesting in the rags. 

she haggles at the stalls;
    trades bronze coins for leg of lamb
takes stained glass for widow’s root
wanders off mumbling ‘fore the fishmonger 
calls her back; “just for you, two-for-one.” 
    two dead-eyed trout. 

she takes what is holy.

sun pinks and oranges over the horizon
the widowed fishmonger sleeps; sweet herbs.
front door creeps open; black cat purrs. 
a babe lies in its crib: breathless. 
a woman slips out, sucking dragonfly wings
    fingers brushing broom handle.

for the pleasure of flight, she waits until nighttime;
    insert broom handle and enter the skies
    moondust over youthful flesh
    the solitude sublime 
no other lives but the bats and the flies – 
    midnight.
    

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About the Author: Madison McSweeney is a Canadian author interested in the macabre and fantastic. Her poems have appeared in Rhythm & Bones, P*ssy Magic, and Twin Peaks anthology These Poems Are Not What They Seem. She has published horror and fantasy stories American Gothic, Cabinet of Curiosities, and Zombie Punks F*ck Off.