Second Campaigner Challenge

From Rachael Harrie's blog:

Write a blog post in 200 words or less, excluding the title. It can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should:

• include the word "imago" in the title
• include the following 4 random words: "miasma," "lacuna," "oscitate," "synchronicity,"

If you want to give yourself an added challenge (optional and included in the word count), make reference to a mirror in your post.

For those who want an even greater challenge (optional), make your post 200 words EXACTLY!

I thought this was hard, so I turned to files of old manuscripts for ideas. I searched for the key words hoping I could find something in a jiffy, and I was able to locate a poem that had miasma in it. I tweaked it by adding the other words. The full poem is much longer, so this is only a portion of it. Being that it's a fragment, I hope it makes sense. And it’s an oldie since I wrote it in ’95. Rachael picked words that made me go huh?, but this led me to a forgotten poem that I’m rather fond of. By the way, this entry is exactly 200 words.

The Twisted Imago

We sit together, tense,

Two thorns on a rotten melon.

You have a newspaper in hand,

Rolled like a club,

Coffee in the other hand

To scorch one’s head.

I sat here first on this bench

Next to the lacuna of a manhole cover,

Against the painted mural,

The dead love proclamations

Etched with a knife on the grainy wood.

The commuter throng left in the last bus.

I am late and shall pay.

We are alone and I dislike your encroachment.

A miasma lingers.

You came when the last bus coughed,

A devil emerging from tendrils of smoke.

The anticipation buzzes

Under my skin

Like so much electricity.

You clear your throat,

Drink your coffee.

I see the air wave.

You hungrily oscitate and I shiver

Because you excel at taking.

We wait, the two of us crackling.

Your skin crinkles and pops

As if in an oven.

Your heat singes my hair.

My dry throat tightens.

I wait for the next bus,

But it won’t save me.

With a lack of synchronicity

There’s no rescue, life has no

Fealty towards me, the

Sun rises and falls never knowing me.

I’ve only dreamed because

I’ve allowed myself such tokens.