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New Decameron: Roz Kaveney
🕑 Added 2020-07-01 13:00:05 +0000 UTCTHE BALLAD OF THE SCAVENGER
By Roz Kaveney
The midwife shrieked and dropped her. Port wine stain
A stripe diagonal from temple past her cheek
Onto her neck. Her family then seek
Ways to remove it. Ways that cause her pain.
Caustics and knives. A priest who exorcises
Says it's the devil's mark, Satan's her Lord.
This costs leading her father to defraud
His clients. So he hangs at the assizes.
Her mother sees him drop. Falls to her knees
An apoplexy takes her then and there.
Girl weeps, hiding her face behind her hair.
Fearing her very life is a disease
Kills where she loves. Aunt says she's a disgrace
Locks in the pantry. Plans to put away.
Dark madhouse cell is what she hears them say.
Where no one has to see her ugly face.
Door left ajar. She runs. As was aunt's plan
Becomes a gutter urchin learns to beg
Soap draws convincing ulcers on her leg.
She saved her aunt a fortune when she ran
For madhouse doctors really don't come cheap.
She's clever learns to live without complaint
Accepts she's damned, her mark's a moral taint
Once she knows this, she giggles in her sleep
She will do such enormous things when grow.
For now with broken glass hamstrings the boy
Who runs things. He had kicked her. She'll destroy
All who've annoyed her. Fantasises how.
Clever and vicious. Also tells them tales
The children gather round her in the street
Fire charred wreck houses. Gradually her feet
Callus inch thick. She lets her nails
Grow harpy ragged long. When she is seen
Men shudder women shriek. Sometimes they swoon
They won forget her leer. And very soon
Admiring brats regard her as their queen
And do her bidding. Mob the older boy
Who mocks her. Leave in dirt to bleed
He will not walk again. Since she can read
They bring her pamphlets. 'God will soon destroy
This wicked city.' And it all comes true
Plague. Buboes in the groin burst pus and blood
Her minions start to die. She knows she should
Mourn them more than she does. Still, one or two
Survive. Enough. Empty streets. And daily carts
Trundle past full of corpses and of stink.
No need for vengeance she begins to think
If circumstance has stopped the rotten hearts
Of those who wronged me. Some doors still left wide
Death outpaced those who'd bar them. Search for bread
Find gold as well. She creeps among the dead
Her urchins follow. Shortly, they all died
They took contagion. Somehow she's immune
Shrugs carries on. Hears voice. 'Please come and find'
Bed ridden girl in Upper room. She's blind
And does not see the mark. Above the moon
Shines unseen as they talk. It's not the same
When someone's helpless needs you. Wash her face
And wash her clean. The bedding's a disgrace
Find linen, change her. She is not to blame
For any of your wrongs. She giggles. There's a charm
In helpless beauty need. You quite forget
To be the monster. Do not notice yet
You simply love her. Gently stroke her arm
With talon point. It tickles. You both smile
Find scissors trim them and you wash your hair
Comb tangles . And outside the night's a glare.
Things happened while you rested here a while.
For cities burn far brighter than your love.
And hotter than your passion. Try to heave
Her out of bed and down the stairs. 'Don't leave'
She says and you will not. Thatch chars above
Smoulder and catches. Bedroom dark with smoke
You cannot see her either. But her hair
Is soft. You choose to die with her stay there
Fates mercy is. You do not burn but choke.
Fortune's a bitch loads dice is not our friend
Slaps us at birth then tortures us some more
Gives rich her tit but pisses on the poor
May grant ironic kindness at our end.
