The Chimaera: Issue 4, September 2008

«Title Page

Margaret Menamin

I know why the sea

is bouillon of rotted silk
wasted coin
and unremembered bone
reefs built on junk
birdcages where no music is
I know water burns
Who drinks salt drinks thirst
I know
the origin of every drop


EDWIN please come home.
We need you.
Father has finished building the attic.
He sits up there
like a trapped animal
not eating not speaking
waiting for you to build a house under it.
NOTICE to all centaurs:
Please stay out of my garden.
Is it not enough
that my mares and my daughters
run wild in the forest
with white manes flying under the moon?
Must you also trample my cabbages?
Like new, used only once
to kill myself.
May be seen at 73 St. Croix
after nine p.m.
This is to notify You
that I am here.
And nothing You can do
will change my mind.

Margaret Menamin, a native of Missouri and now a resident of Murrysville, PA, is a former newspaper reporter, among many other jobs, some of which she’d like to forget. You may read more of her work at
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