ELLEN HUANG
Hangover in Tír na nÓg
When the party’s over, they giggle,
Bow out, spin off out the windows,
into the walls, back to the paintings,
Shrink away and slumber in flowers
Upon the coming dawn. Has it really been
an entire night? The sun burns my skin as
never before, the gold pillars glint as if to say
don’t worry we burn too, and the music
weaves in and out of my head like
punch drunk ghosts.
My back crackles like I’m made of wood,
my cloak is tattered from fuzzy memories
of the frolic it took to get down the steps,
and fairy food does not agree with me.
Literally. Their fruit grow eyes and keep
bickering amongst themselves about me.
The selkies slip on their coats
the trolls return to rock and moss
and the—I should say Good People—
have gone back into the day world.
I’m still on the floor with worn out bloody
shoes and a knotted flower wreath.
How did I get here again?
Previously published in Three Drops from a Cauldron
Ellen Huang holds a BA in Writing & Theatre minor from Point Loma Nazarene University. She loves theatre, cinema, literature, storytelling, strange and unusual Halloween things, and ocean. She is a peer reader for Whale Road Review and has pieces published in Royal Rose, Sword & Kettle Press, Enchanted Conversation, Elephants Never, and Kissing Dynamite, among others. Living her most colorful life, she also runs a blog where she explores her spirituality with fairy tale & film. Follow if you wanna: worrydollsandfloatinglights.wordpress.com