The Abduction of the Zogairy Women
They told us they’ll cut up any stragglers,
so we try to look sharp when we hear the clink
of evil eyes turning. Rot & beshrew the vulgar
stinkers! The hog-toothed gang boss is reading
us the Rules: sex & sandwiches at sundown.
Whoever dreamed up this trek is a nutty number
indeed. All we can dream of is fragrant apricots
from the cool orchards of our homeland, solar
hymns chanted by handsome young lads wearing
only their tan. Abduction’s no stroll in the park.
Now they’re telling us we’re going to Californiay.
We nod demurely (aye, sir!), make their sandwiches
and hope they’ll choke, the fuckers. But our ears
are tuned to sounds they can’t hear; in the grey
dawn we pick murmuring mushrooms as we walk.
Yes, sisters. We’ll reward them for their felonies.
Two more days’ march at breakneck cadence,
one more night’s humiliations. The inconceivable
will arrive by sandwich, an unchronicled episode.
And we’ll have nice new skin pouches for our belts.
About the Author
Jane Røken lives in Denmark, on the interface between hedgerows and barley fields. She is fond of old tractors, garden sheds, scarecrows and other stuff that, in the due course of time, will ripen into something else. Her writings have been sighted in many different places, mostly online.