Tag Archives: Kailey Tedesco

A Mermaid Documentary

by Kailey Tedesco

The television was briefly a crystal ball:

                All the summer bodies lay suctioned
                to the sofa: barnacles upon a
                                sunken ship.

                In the time of lies, we believed
                                in mermaids.

                And remembered when we saw
                them too; strange scaled pixels
                                flashing through the
                                                static ocean.

But it was only a Wellsian hoax,

                Leaving us to make our own mermaids
                of the fish among the swallowed
                perfume bottles and cuckoo clocks:

                                The hauntings of the sea and the
                                                intonations of white noise on
                                                                harlequin waves.

Mademoiselle Paralysée

by Kailey Tedesco

The mousy lady standing quietly
in the middle of the room…
Doesn’t have much to say, just moans:
“Lighten up, dark eyes.”

She’s devoured by all the chattering.
Opened mouths:
Each of them inebriated with Scotch
or lipstick fumes.

She’s sober; insatiable,
But it’s not you.
You see her all dressed up:
Floral and a pearl.

A boisterous place to go,
Hoists herself on toes
To see if predestination
was so kind

As to let her premeditated,
thoughtful script
Play out.
Act One Scene One: Socialization Time

Velvety red lips part
The tongue’s a stage
And nothing: An obscure aperture;
And a dry heave.

All this talk of epithets and space-time
and she’s paralyzed
For fear of error.

The Shipwreck in a Bottle

by Kailey Tedesco

For a while, buoyant on the friscallating surface…

For a while…

Underwater, the cacophony of chatter is far from here.
With a fervency, antiquated tea kettles and china
Fall to the ocean floor and set to dinner.

Muddled they are, in the sand.
Once of the land, they now settle in the sea
Like water wisteria. The double consciousness
of dinnerware is maddening for the fish.

Chipping away at the absence of the debutante
and the miscreant counterpart.
In eighty odd years the ablution will come to an end.
They’ll be placed in a money philter

And displayed in a Vegas museum as the last survivors.
And with the drowned mer-people, they’ll be preserved always
behind the glass of the sea, on display, always so,
for the waves of the living to wince upon and move on.


by Kailey Tedesco

Antidotes and Anecdotes to tear us through and through;
Irises, whipped egg yokes, such monochrome disasters.
Yet yellows stare at starry night all far to near:
The smashing sunsets yearning for the taste of soil.

For hundreds of white hot flares conflagrant
For our contemplative, tiny thoughts.
But we stare and stare at them until bleak
And bare and evade them one by one.

Acidic in esophagus; alluring corrosive tiny tears
Filling forlorn beings with direction here to there.
To the stream that steers day by day,
“hope never saw the beacon.”

Grab spiral straws to sip and sip the world
Until all small and shallow pools quietly devoured:
A whisper of everything there shatters to despair
All and only because of everyone so alive…

Who speaks of talk and everything,
Numb to anything by all its nothing.

The Absence of Being

by Kailey Tedesco

Is when the world plays
a god on themselves and

Covers itself in the names of others
as a disguise for their own.

It pours out all our subconscious
into a mass sewage system

Where all thoughts eventually
reach the social sea.

Here, one can no longer see individuality
For the Mind Collective

Can’t keep track of ethos
or pathos or logos

With every unctuous wave, rip-tide,
and hurricane.

The heart is broken, the mind is
twisted, and only memories.

No one can tell you what happens to a
bouquet of foxgloves when they hit the floor.

Imagine they are wet and torn,
but fear the most that they are no more.