On Reading Atkinson

Hades came darting with horses
as I poured sherbet into a carafe
Lilacs bloomed on my doorstep
and crept up on the cat’s wooden staff

The sky was a purple puddle
and when I sat down to read
a fire erupted behind me
while I sipped on chamomile tea

My brother accompanied the fishes
as they went to parliament with arson
and on the way back after the show
my doppelgänger bought me some buns

Buttons, needles, and silken thread
the dogs in the street could talk
as Hera stitched my wounded forehead
my soul went out for a walk

P.S.: My review of Kate Atkinson’s book can be found here: Not the End of the World: Review

8 thoughts on “On Reading Atkinson

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    1. Atkinson’s stories are sprinkled with Greek myths. In my poem, Hades (the God of death) kills me. Then, at the end Hera (the Goddess of Heaven) stitches my wound. So whatever is happening in between is while I am dead. 😛

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