, , , , , , ,

Because rural roads have no lights. Because

rainstorms meant no one would follow. You parked


the car, turned toward me; as if menopause

ever cooled passion. I’d yet to be marked


with toff, hormones, my hex’d sex. Sleepovers

with your son’s chums left me all pearl-handled,


revolveress. Barking irons. Splatters

on your grip, your neck, your grin. Rains drizzled


on the bonnet while within you wiped from

your palm maelstrom. I said O and eased out


into ancient dark no one could follow.

You said, “Hmm?” Mishap: once I called you mom.


You laughed. Your gravestone calls you a devout

mother. Good. There’s no rain these days, just snow.



Victorian slang has so many quaint concepts that never get the love that they deserve in this modern age. For example, a revolveress is a woman who, “uses a pistol with a great degree of surety.” (from, Passing English of the Victorian era, a dictionary of heterodox slang, 1885)