Maman Brigitte
Nothing to cry about sister,
Death is just another party;
I was the first bitch they laid
To rest here and I’ll surely be
The last to leave. Hell I should
Know: you can’t cuss me out
For using profanity ‘cause
Us deceased don’t waste time
On company manners. Still got my
Glad rags on; who needs those
Angel wings? Got me laid out
In satin and lace. I’m well-preserved
For a red-headed white gal; I’m
Soaked in rum, like a juicy peach.
Sure I’m still hot to trot; just ask
My man Baron Samedi. I was never
Dead from the neck down and I
Rub me with chillis for extra pleasure.
Sure he has a roving eye behind his
Spectacle-frames, on the look-out
For fresh meat. I don’t turn in my
Grave, fretting, cause the young
Bloods appreciate a woman of
Experience; they line up ready to
Jump my bones. Light up my cigar
And I’m still smokin’; think my lungs
Must be shoe-leather by now. Bring
Me a fine fat rooster and I’ll shake
My tail-feathers while I drain his blood;
I’ll trim my fancy hat with his jet-black
Plumes. Drop by and pay your respects;
Rest a while under my willow, but I
Don’t have time for weeping; I’m too
Occupied keeping open-house for
Lost souls, so they can feel at home
Somewhere; we learned life was no
Picnic; who needs wine and roses,
Suckers? Chillis, rum and cigars
Are our poison and we’re making
Out just fine. Amen to that, sorry-ass
Dried-up bitches. You got no clue!
Kate Meyer-Currey was born in 1969 and moved to Devon in 1973. A varied career in frontline settings has fuelled her interest in gritty urbanism, contrasted with a rural upbringing. Her ADHD also instills a sense of ‘other’ in her life and writing, whether folklore feminism or urban myth.
Her chapbook County Lines (Dancing Girl Press, forthcoming 2021) juxtaposes these realities. Other poems include Family Landscape: Colchester 1957 (Not Very Quiet, September 2020), Invocation (Whimsical Poet, forthcoming), Cailleach (SageWoman, forthcoming), and Dregs (Seinundwerden, forthcoming).
