Half Drunk Muse Poetry


If she were my mother by Alyson Dayus

I’d take her jet-black eyeliner
and scrawl ‘she loves you, dahlings’
on the wall. I’d rewrite her life
in lipstick, unpoisoning grandmother’s
blood, dressing baby in boyish blue.

She’d turn cartwheels
in a buckskin dress, and like
a gallery girl, I would clap my hands
and covet her eyelashes. I’d understand
my name when she pronounced it
in that renowned, sardonic drawl.

Tallulah, hallelujah—
Not a proper Southern lady,
she’d never want an English Rose.

View bio for Alyson Dayus Published in Spring and Summer 2005

About HDM

Half Drunk Muse was one of the first poetry ezines. It was founded in 1999 and ceased publication in 2006.

Questions/comments? Email samiller@halfdrunkmuse.com.