Our Lady of the Island

By Richard N. Bentley

Brave rays

once left the slope of her hand,

hoping to radiate out into the stratosphere

a clear signal

to those who wanted her.

But suns set, she knows,

Constellations fade, she knows, and

in the end her weary rays

Flicker across the desert sea,

Lose their nerve, grow listless

While huddled masses,

those who were once necessary

no longer are.

 

Smash and grab a sovereign state,

and her dark fire splutters, casting

only shadows.

It’s getting so you have

to slap her awake

to face the nice girl

she used to be.

___

Dick Bentley’s books, Post-Freudian Dreaming and A General Theory of Desire, are available at Amazon & Powell’s. He’s a Pushcart Prize nominee, and won the Paris Review/Paris Writers Workshop International Fiction Award. He has published over 200 works of fiction, poetry and memoir in Literary Magazines and Quarterlies in the US, the UK, France, Canada and Brazil. His next book will be titled All Rise. The cover features a picture of an unshaven Chief Justice Roberts with holes in his judicial robe, mud all over his face, and a swarm of fleas and gnats circling his head.  In the background, by contrast, are Botticelli’s Venus Rising from the Half Shell, helium balloons, a rising sun, and lots of butterflies. Check out his website www.dickbentley.com He loves hearing from readers. 413-256-0240 


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