Ellison's Bastille

It's inconceivable 

When an old ritual 

Takes precedence 

Over a person's life

But that's what this 

Particular ditch was for

No one here

Would admit such

Atrocities existed

Under the mythical fabric 

Of America 

Down deep in the South

Where the swamps 

Slowly creep to your backdoor 

Trespassing often

The rattlesnakes and water moccasins 

Sunbath on your sandy lawn

Sparsely sprinkled with grass

Waiting to strike at barefeet 

Here

An ancient pact was agreed upon 

Between the top predators of the region 

Werewolves to be precise 

Claimed an old foreboding land

Anyone who betrayed their peace 

Was subject to an explicitly cruel death

This pact was broken of course

Since chaos is the very anatomy

Of nature

A father was to be hunted

And torn limb from limb

While his daughter 

Was to be raped brutally 

And afterward hunted viciously 

If by some grand gesture 

Their gods granted her protection 

With infinite camouflage 

She could have her pups in peace

Without the clans 

Destroying her precious bloodline 

Rape, no matter what words 

A person uses

In some sectors of anonymity

This is their trademark

On this day when the sun 

Was at its highest

And the humidity beaded upon her skin

Ellison was dragged 

To the sacrificial ditch

The male werewolves were lined up

Barely holding their victims

Transformed, long ivory fangs glistening 

All colors of fur shining 

As if they were just brushed 

For the ceremony 

The howling and nipping began

Each victim thrown relentlessly against 

The dried sun burnt grass that crinkled 

Like long-forgotten Christmas paper

Rubbing raw flesh straight to the ground

Black and white sand

Soaked with the blood of virgins

Under such beastly immense weight

After the first surge

The women were released 

Fleeing as fast as stampeding deer

Hearing ricocheting gunshots in their ears

They ran on all fours

Only one would survive this day

The other victims were devoured 

In the great chase through the stellar pines,

Sea grapes, known as monkey trees to the locals, 

And the beautiful bald cypress 

Ellison climbed the highest spruce 

She could find in severe agony

The only safe place she had ever known 

In silence, she watched the brute

Search around in great confusion 

With his enormous claws digging into the damp underbrush

Her snarling violator was her father's best friend

In shame and bitterness 

He hung his head 

A grand silver mane

Low to the ground 

Sniffing one last time for any scent

Slowly backing away 

From the immense noble tree

He knew his failure must never be known 

Their gods had granted her immunity 

Through invisibility and stealth 

Which was far more than anyone 

Could ever comprehend 

She was a goddess in her own right now

Everyone must believe 

She had been torn to bits

Or he would be punished 

According to the old laws

Cowardness has its place

In every societal clan

Her heart pounded with extreme precision

With each breath her anger grew 

Hysterically

She looked at her hands shaking

Covered in blood and deep gashes

Naked, distraught 

She knew the old ones gathered 

In the high mountain realms far to the North

Where the snow laid down for winter

And the ice blue waterfalls were the gateways

There she would go

To make an unbreakable deal with the gods

For the safety of her children 

Soon to be born ©

To be continued 

Karen L. Fleming, edited 10.31.2024

Precious Heart

The moment I met him

I didn't realize 

What had occurred

A shock wave coursed

Through my body

I caught myself from falling

Backwards

My hands grasping

A giant concrete pylon

For safety

My breath had deteriorated

I gasped in horror

And looked out upon

The giant crowd

Holding lighters for a moment

Of silence

The dead spoke so loudly

That night

Tears fell from my eyes

My feet began walking clumsily

Out of the arena

A concert I had waited for

With excitement diminished

He was now my guardian angel

I hold tight to you my dear

I write with you

I lead you where you've never been

I play your favorite song

When you need me

I remind you never to give up

You rescued me from purgatory

Because of you

I've watched over my loved ones

A gift I have always cherished

And every time you say, 

"Thank you Michael."

I remember why I chose

Your precious soul © 10.17.21

Karen L. Fleming

Madison Notus

On a beautiful rose-colored day

When perfection permeated the air

She put on her best dress

A remanence of Sex and the City

She twirled in her

Sarah Jessica Parker dress

With Christian Louboutin 

High heels accentuating

Her long legs

These were her few 

Fashionable treasures

She held dear 

To her country bumpkin heart

She strolled the streets of Manhattan

Happy as could be

Never noticing

The man who followed

Her every blissful step

Upon the cracked concrete 

Now he was a tall man

Of stature and quite brawny

He smiled with each step

She carefully placed

Upon the filthy sidewalk

She was trying her best

Not to damage her

Floral and crystal 

Embossed shoes

He was absolutely smitten

And he knew beyond 

A shadow of a doubt

If he turned the corner

He would lose her forever

So, he walked cautiously

Behind her step by graceful step 

All the way to Grand Central Terminal

And to her little double-wide

Out in the country

Where the cows, chickens,

And sheep roamed freely

He had decided upon that day

He would come back

Occasionally

To knock upon her door

Just to see her beautiful face

Unbeknownst to him

Her husband was a farmer

Awaiting the zombie apocalypse

But that was quite alright

With him, it was no matter at all

On a quite spectacular day

When the wind danced

Upon the grass and wheat fields

He parked his blue and white

Bugatti Chiron

A way down the hillbilly highway

In an old Amish barn

That had seen better days

Where she wouldn't notice

A stranger about

He walked quietly up

To the rickety porch

That was in a great need 

Of repair

And gently knocked on

The trailer's door

She peered through 

The dirty diamond window

Great confusion and curiosity

Overwhelmed her

There before her stood

A rare gem of a man

Outfitted lavishly in a

Gorgeous Giorgio Armani suit

And as handsome as Jamie Fraser

Of Outlander

She very cautiously 

Opened the door

Gave him a good look 

Up and down

And couldn't stop

Staring at his diamond

Encrusted shoes

"May I help you?"

She said and then pointed

A burgundy painted fingernail

At his shoes, 

"Must be Jason of Beverley Hills?"

He smiled for a moment

Nodded his head slightly

And said, "I love you."

"Excuse me? Veronica reply.

"I saw you in New York 

And followed you home."

He said sheepishly.

A bright red neon sign

Stalker Alert! flashed

On and off in her mind

Warning her

She calmly replied,

"I have a husband."

The stranger looked at her

Calmly smiling 

And said, "I'll be back tomorrow."

Tomorrow indeed came

And she was prepared

She had a gun sitting

On her coffee table

Her husband was busy

Taking care of the farm

Mid-afternoon

When the heat was stifling

A melodic knock 

Came from her door

There he stood

As happy as he could be

She opened the door

And shot him point-blank

Right between the eyes

And still, he stood smiling

He gave her a quick wink

While blowing her a kiss goodbye

And said, I'll see you tomorrow."

She closed the door 

Falling to her knees 

In utter confusion

The next day came

And she had told 

Her husband

This rare dilemma

It was ok

He was prepared for anything

He had a shed full 

Of historic Army equipment

In case the end of the world

Began unexpectedly

That day they hung the man

In a three hundred year old  oak tree

But he just continued

To smile kindly

Veronica and her husband

Scratched their heads 

And reluctantly released him

The next morning 

Came with dew heavily

Drenching the grass

Her husband Harold

Dressed in his finest overalls

Rigged their double-wide trailer

With explosives 

Madison walked briskly

Up to the door 

While the sun was setting

Red, orange, purple,

And blue hues 

Transformed the horizon

A lovely evening

To grace her with roses 

He thought

He knocked only once

When two tons

Of explosives erupted

Catching him off guard

And to double his efforts

Her husband pulled the trigger

On an old savaged bazooka

And still Madison 

Stood his ground

Never losing his smile

Utterly shocked 

Veronica facepalmed herself

And her husband just glared

At him, his Versace suit

Untouched

Not one single hair amiss

Upon his head

At that moment

The couple decided

To compromise 

With the unyielding god

The great negotiations began

Under a pecan tree

Around a giant wooden spool

Once used for storing copper wire

With a gleam in his eye

Madison sat down 

In an old rusted metal patio chair

And said quite gracefully,

"You didn't have to make

such a fuss."

Harold slammed down 

His fist in anger,

"What the hell do you

want with my wife?"

He replied with patience,

"I'm in love with Mrs. Veronica,

and I shall never leave her side."

He began to tell his story

Of the first day he saw her

Strolling the sidewalks

With such grace and how

His heart slowly melted

From the coldness it once felt 

Corrupted by Wall Street

And all of humanity's greed

Each delicate description

Was a modern fable

Filling their hearts 

With unimaginable hope

Optimistically,

A deal was struck

If Madison would write

With them a sci-fi/fantasy novel

And it became a bestseller

He would be allowed to stay

As a family member

The months passed

And the feverish writing

Commenced without a hitch

They all wrote outside

In the beating sun

Or the freezing cold

With a fire nearby

They lived in makeshift tents

For almost a year

And when the editing 

Was finished

They wait for the mailman

To deliver the news

But Madison had a dear friend

Whom was a publisher

Quite old and dapper

He wore a tweed suit and sunglasses

He was thrilled to read

A book of such caliber

A check was cut 

And to the printing press

The masterpiece was rushed

Now the throuple

No longer live in tents

They have built a mansion

Right in the exact place

The double-wide once stood

Now Mrs. Veronica

Still takes strolls

Every once in a while

In the big city

Trying to capture 

Just a bit more magic

Perhaps another god 

Or even goddess

But for the most part

Madison is right there

By her side in his best suit

Holding her hand attentively

Keeping her safe

And that is how a farmer

And his wife became billionaires

Now Harold still tends 

To the chickens and cows

He doesn't really give a hoot

About what goes on in the world

They have their peace

A sense of security

And that's all 

The throuple ever needed ©

Karen L. Fleming

My #daughter came home and said, "Sex in the City is a Mandela effect now, it's Sex and the City." I replied, "Are you fucking serious right now?" This is a dream I had, so I embellished the experience a bit, but not by much. I decided to mix pop culture with Greek mythology.