Rhiannon’s Rival Twin

I wonder if Stevie’s white witch ever worried about
laundry or
bills or
Touchdown Club meetings

When she swirled and made magic, did her lacy bottoms
ever schlepp through piles of dog hair, or become
pasted with the mystery sludge seeping from under the refrigerator?

In my best whiny voice: Why does she get to cast spells with herbs and spices
and partake in moonlight vices?
Why do I have to play responsible girl?
Bake cookies for fundraisers and causes and reasons
until I’m blue in the face with my generosity and good attitude
“Oh, Thank Goodness for You!”

She titters at me from her pretty perch
Nobody would ever ask her to help – they wouldn’t dare!
She sucks tequila down, right from the bottle
Tongue in cheek and liquored up, perfect lipsticked lips
Swathed in the red and the black; blood of her victims
wavy, mmmmm hot-messy
periwinkle hair flows down her back
Her breasts heave high while her jeans sling low
I want purple, I want cleavage, I want to show!

I try it sometimes, I can pull it off if I hide my driver’s license
and leave the sensible shoes at home with the scrunchie and sweats
Then my kid sees me at school: drop off another check, a forgotten
uniform, an errant permission slip
He meets me in the office all up in his huff and sick with dismay,
Mom. Those shorts are too short. The other moms don’t dress that way

So, I put on my mom-jeans, and drive my mom-car with the 29 mpg and good tires
She snorts, and tosses back her heliotrope hair
her smirk snarled and toothy and discerning
She slams the throttle to the floor of that hot little number she drives
She sees that I want her; ache for her
Our eyes meet in the mirror every morning and I can’t pretend it’s not true

I attempt to be the Moon’s daughter – her forgotten sister
I grow the Belladona, cast the seeds, light the candles and get down on my knees
But then, I’m interrupted by an e-mail or a phone call or a cause and a good reason
And a laugh, a “to be continued” some other day, maybe next season

Dah-dunna-dah-dun the piano riff tone sounds on my phone
She snatches it from my clingy hands and responds with mouth open and lips licked
Slithers out of her bra and into garters and spiky heels while I find a
professional skirt and flats – I have to look smart, together, all book-ends up
By the time you see her again, it’ll be empty bottles and tangled sheets
all smelling up like him and lounging like a satisfied cat

I only looked away for a minute!Well, because, I had to do that one thing
for those one people on that one day

She bequeaths me a last glance, tosses it over her shoulder at me
You wanna do something about it?
standing in the full length mirror before going down
Fingernails tracing the lines of his torso until she finds




I want to be special Just a little special
With great hair and killer legs and a don’t fuck with me attitude
Maybe a mind-reader, or a healer, or writer or SOMETHING other than what I am
Somebody other than the prude preoccupied with meatloaf and groceries

Who am I kidding? I’m pretty fucking cool

Not the long, cool woman in a black dress kind of cool
Not the cool chick who people write songs about cool
Maybe a different, more responsible and reliable cool
A witchy woman – a witchay woman – more Elaine than Don

She’s skilled with the glances, the perky tits, and the booze and the seduction
but I’m a producer
I get shit done
I push that nasty bitch out of my head long enough to
lure my demon lover away from her grasp and take her spot
and make him howl at the moon for a while

You could learn a thing or two, honey
I’m really good on my knees


Oh friends, what a fun piece of nonsense! It all started after hearing “Rhiannon” twice during a three-hour drive down to the next work assignment. The free write began with something serious, but Rhiannon called for something else–she can be quite stubborn. So, I had to make this ornery, seductive, and waaaaay outside my comfort zone. I’d also just read “Woman of Moderation” at Anna Bequins. The raw, sensual words set a permanent camp in my brain, and I probably copied a bit. Match all of this with the fact that I’m really tempted to color my hair K-State purple…well, the rival twin was born. 

Open to suggestions and tips. This poetry thing escapes me. Most of this was written at 2 a.m. this morning 😉 

16 thoughts on “Rhiannon’s Rival Twin

  1. Oh Michelle, why am I just hearing about this blog now? Well so happy to be following and keeping track even if it is late in the game.

    Anyway, love this one and so relate though I am not sure with which character. Let’s just say the line about the children being embarrassed of their mother’s short shorts really hit home! You are pretty fucking cool.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Because I don’t tell very many people about. Fiction and poetry are waaay outside my comfort zone. So glad to have crossed paths with another short short wearin’ fucking cool mama (that’s more F-bombs in one page than in an entire diary)
      Thank you, Marissa. I’ll never quite have your knack for rhythm, but it’s certainly fun to try!


      • Really making everything scan is a never ending battle for me and so many people have told me to just go with free verse but, oh I do like my rhymes.

        Well, you certainly have a flare for language which so I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I certainly enjoyed your poetry and am looking forward to more!


  2. Perfection. Ooh honey those 2 am pieces are where the magic happens.

    I love the violet hair. I say go for it, if only for a long weekend.

    You know the song “One of These Nights” by the Eagles?

    I’ve been searching for the daughter
    Of the devil himself
    I’ve been searching for an angel in white
    I’ve been waiting for a woman who’s a little
    Of both
    And I can feel her but she’s nowhere
    In sight

    Can definitely feel some Woman of Moderation here, maybe some Wild Thing too. Love that it inspired you and we can feed off of each other.

    More please!!! ❤️❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh Yes! “One of these nights” nails it!
      Okay, lady. Your turn!
      I know you can do something delicious.
      As for the violet hair, I found several pics on pinterest. We are going to the opening game, full moon was a couple of nights ago…it’s sign, right?
      HA! A sign of an impending midlife crisis!!
      Thank you, hon, for your vote of confidence. This needs more fiddling, but it’s a start. Thank you for inspiring me with your work–I hope it didn’t feel too much like a copy 🙂



    holy shit mamma! I have been out all day, but just before i left this morning i opened this, read the first couple of lines and looked at the picture and thought “i’d better wait until later”….
    this is awesome, and ow i have the secret site bookmarked, which is even awesomer!

    This is good Michelle…back and forth between mom and witch, that wild conversation with words and looks, slugs of booze and fingernails….oooooo-la-la! I loved it!
    I agree that 2am is often magic time, this proves the point.

    And when i first opened this, well, that woman looks enough like you at a quick glance that my heart leapt….I say do it, you’d look awesome with purple hair.

    “good on my knees”..land’s sake child! fetch me a fan…..


    • Oh Michele! I’m so tickled to see you here!
      In fact, I’m basking in quite a bit of feminine energy as I read the coolest notes ever from you and my blogger besties – you ladies might understand me better than anyone and it feels good to be completely myself.
      Thank you for hanging over the cliff with me on this one – I laughed right out loud when you asked me to fetch you a fan. This note made even funnier by the fact that I’m sitting at a very quiet airport terminal. You are SO good to me.
      PS: I think I’m going for the purple. Someone told me that I looked ‘high society’ yesterday. Hmmph. If only they knew about the mommy porn I’d just written….

      Liked by 1 person

  4. This was great fun and terrific writing, Michelle. Loved the switch between characters and the vivid, sesnsual descriptions. You can and should continue to pull off both. When you do the hair purple, please do a photo session. And more of this please.


    • Hellloooooo!! Seeing your beautiful face reminds me that I have a gift sitting in my inbox just waiting to be read. I’m going to try to channel your ‘I rock this hair’ attitude and go for the purple. What the hell, right?
      I’ll be over to your site today – I can’t wait to see what you’ve been up to!

      Liked by 1 person

    • I hold Christy and Jennie completely responsible for all of this poetry nonsense. They taught me that poetry doesn’t have to hurt your head to be good. I also find that fewer words make me feel more free and that the reader can fill in whatever gaps they want.
      Regarding your “whore” reference. Do you know, I had that word in my first draft?!?! I took it out because I wanted the reader to make that leap. You did!!
      Admittedly, I felt a bit blasphemous when I called out being on my knees. Seems like there is a fine line between prayer and other, more carnal things and I was thinking how I enjoy both.
      Thank you for reading this – I’m so honored to have friends like you who don’t judge and love me for who I am. xo

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I’ve read too much of your poetry to know that it doesn’t escape you at all. But it does escape me and I don’t usually know what to say when I read it but I can definitely relate to feeling like a “prude preoccupied with meatloaf and groceries.” Sometimes I just want to be a little more whore than madonna! xxoo


  6. People say nothing good happens after two am. And they say it as if that’s a bad thing. Those people don’t know what fun feels like, so there’s that.

    I love the piece. I have to give props to anyone who can write poetry because I cannot. It’s like sitting down to write something on a greeting card. I have actually googled what to write on a greeting card. I realize that makes me pathetic. And I really don’t care. It’s hard work dammit!

    Anyways, Sexy good writing going on here. Thanks for the keys to the inner sanctum. Peace.


    • Hey…Nobody said anything about writing poetry!
      Consider this a lazy piece of prose. I don’t write real poetry, because I don’t know how. I don’t know rules or even the terms. I put words in a form like this when I’m not sure how to tell the story. This seems so much more delicate than the blow job I’ve written about.
      This lets the reader do more of that. Huh. It really IS a lazy piece of writing.
      I’ll keep playing. It’s nice and quiet over here.
      Thank you for indulging me – I think you’re the only dude – our token male. I hope you don’t mind being objectified 😉

      PS: and OMG…I TOTALLY google what to write on greeting cards!

      Liked by 1 person

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