la mausoleum

Perfume loring, turning and hedged to the skulled moon. It was a death-sentence oneiric to the autumn. It was symbolic as the little boy put his dirty shoes on my guitar case (and I said nothing), I felt atrophy of either the red koi flowers or the moon


and I drowned to the moon herself
like a mannequin in the troughs
of asylum


I hated this place. I felt so empty, I only could remember the unbridled lust of leaving. It was a sway and a dance like corvid feathers that would fall, stretched to the bursting breast of the sea. We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time, and when oft I remembered madness, the sorrows went from my eyes. I withdrew to the fingernails under the crawling light of the moon’s disarray,

her womb shames me.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the prosery dVerse prompt: Write a story that includes the following line from that poem:  ‘We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time’.


I somewhat reworked a prose piece I wrote last year called Perfume Loring. It tells the same story of my experience that I no longer enjoyed participating in a group band (thankfully, I never performed, I just rehearsed with them). I cherish some of the memories I had and it was an experience that I’m glad to reflect on, but it taxed me emotionally.


43 thoughts on “la mausoleum

    1. You and me both. I think I stuck around because I was hoping I would feel differently eventually. Nope, it just got worse. I really did love playing on the stage platform, but the company and atmosphere just wasn’t for me. Thank you for your lovely feedback and kindness. Always appreciated. 🙂

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  1. You are the queen of mesmerizing diction and dark imagery, Lucy! 💝 I love the description of madness and the lines; “the sorrows went from my eyes. I withdrew to the fingernails under the crawling light of the moon’s disarray.” I have goosebumps! 🙂

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  2. I’ve just discovered Emily St. John Mandel, whose writing style reminds me of Stephen King. I’ve recently come upon Kathy Hepinstall’s brilliant poetic prose. With these three, perhaps a few others, and you, I crave to consume every word ever written. I hope you are a wildly successful poet and novelist. You should be.

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    1. Oh wow… I am at a loss for words right now. I thank you so, so much. You’ve made my day, perhaps even my week with your kind words. Thank you so much. 🙂

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  3. I like that not only is this a reworked prose piece, Lucy, but also has autobiographical roots. I like the dreamlike almost nightmare quality of it, the language and imagery, especially the ‘sway and a dance like corvid feathers that would fall, stretched to the bursting breast of the sea’. There is also a hint of creepiness in ‘I withdrew to the fingernails under the crawling light of the moon’s disarray’.

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  4. Lucy, I appreciate the personalization of your afterword, which helps me understand the poem better. My favorite line is:
    “and when oft I remembered madness, the sorrows went from my eyes”
    Such a feeling of relief here.

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    1. Oh, Dwight, I was so peeved at that. When I got home that evening, I scrubbed the case down like there was no tomorrow. The only good thing that came from those rehearsals was playing Nirvana and the Rolling Stones. Now THAT was fun.

      Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m happy you liked this piece. 🙂

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  5. Like others, thanks for the note of explanation and for the link to the earlier piece, As always with your writing – such strong images – and the claustrophobia of this place is particularly strong in this piece. I particularly liked ‘like a mannequin in the troughs of asylum.’ and the image of the boy putting his dirty feet on your guitar case. Also the sense of rage internalised – into dark florid dreams – wonderful stuff.

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  6. Lucy this is wonderful writing. Explaining the backstory helped me enjoy it even more. Having been in a number of bands over a 25 year. I fully appreciate the dynamic that happens within a group. When I was younger I join other groups when I got older I started my own groups – but the dynamic was still there. It was stronger in some of the groups much fainter in other groups and sometimes, save for one individual or two, the drama was minimal. But when you’re talking about younger individuals, No forget younger, when you’re talking about creative individuals ego is always a significant component. It Hass to be there or performing, which I loved, can be frightening. I watched it in some of my fellow bandmembers over the years.I really enjoyed reading this Lucy thank you for sharing.

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    1. Rob, thank you so much and thank you for sharing your experiences as well. I agree with you. There’s so much that goes on in group dynamics. I find that those with the most stage ego are the shyest. I had to put on my own ego, being silly and jumping on the stage while playing. It was the only way I could get through the nerves, even only at rehearsals. I also was still playing in front of others that had nothing to do with the group. I did always enjoy being on the stage and having fun with one of the drummers, though. Some mixed memories, but the experience was worth it to reflect on.

      Do you still perform in bands? Probably not these days, though, but before the pandemic?

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  7. Lucy-style, all the way! I am entranced by this one…and most especially these words at the end:
    “I withdrew to the fingernails under the crawling light of the moon’s disarray,”
    I know the womb part is missing in the quotation above…but for me, these words above say it all. Well done, as always, Lucy!

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  8. Like me, you just couldn’t stick to prose, could you?
    “and I drowned to the moon herself
    like a mannequin in the troughs
    of asylum”
    Definitely poetic… and so appropriate to the. tone of the piece!
    Eerie… captivating!
    Well done!! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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