I Am the Burning Woman by JC Reilly

I Am the Burning Woman

by JC Reilly

  come to set aflame

the seagrasses  on the shore

old stumps and driftwood

    a rowboat tethered          to the dock.

Even that which is         not

tinder                  will spark, catch light:

the cormorants    the alligators

the damselflies    the dog chasing

     its tail. I will burn it all.

     The house the car our bed—

our bed of bright green chintz

and yellow primrose         decadence

will go first.   What       right

        has she to lie in  wedding sheets

not her own?       To burn

them is to love them again.

I will not burn you        with flame.

You will turn ashen just the same.

This poem was published in Ponder Review, in the Spring 2020 issue. You can read it, and other great poems, here.

I am going to be honest. I do not know if the speaker of this poem caught her partnet cheating on her, or if she got dumped for a new woman, or if she and her partner split amicably months or years ago but now she wants him back. I think it can be read in any of these ways (although I lean towards the cheating scenario); in any case, the speaker is very angry. And I like that the poet does not blatantly tell us the details of thje situation.

This poem also has a title that could go in thousands of different directions. Historical witch-burning. Cool contemporary wiccan. Fire jumper in a CA wildfire. A shunned teenaged girl getting some Carrie revenge. A Girl Scout leader on a camping trip with her troop. Joan of Arc. There are a lot of directions!

All of that makes the first 4 very descriptive lines a bit mysterious. The next set of lines is a bit upsetting--the animals will die?!?

Then the kicker: "I will burn it all."

Ah ha! The speaker is going to burn it all down. If the incredible descriptions did not already pull you in, this knowledge should because you/I/we want to know why.

"The house the car our bed"--it is, of course, the last thing that tells us a lot. OUR. And not our desk or our vase, but something intimate, the bed. Our bed.

A little more description and the fact that the speaker plans to set this on fire first gives us more information. But then we get another kicker, in the form of a question that is filled with pain and anguish.

What       right

        has she to lie in  wedding sheets

not her own?

It is a heartbreaking question. But that sorrow quickly turns back to anger and the destruction of everything. I assume the "they" is the sheets; they were once loved but are now hated. Only destroying them can turn them into their original sweet memory.

I will not burn you        with flame.

You will turn ashen just the same.

Did you think she was offering forgiveness in that penultimate line? Nope. The speaker doesn't need to set him on fire--destroying the other woman? new woman? and all of the stuff will kill him.

I like the sudden true rhyme there at the end. It is unexpected and is not forced. Same and flame fit the meaning and, more importantly, the poet did not do any weird syntax here:

With flame I will not make you burn.

But into ashes you will turn.

Ugh.

Also, is she really an arsonist? Is this all a metaphor? I think no to both. I believe the speaker is at that white hot anger stage, where she is burning with hatred (a lot of our idioms about anger--and love-- involve fire!), and is stating what she wants to do in this terrible moment. We have probably all felt this at some point, especially if we have ever been betrayed by someone we loved and trusted. The anger is a flame. I hope none of us have set the world (poor animals!) on fire in that moment but knew that things would eventually get better.

I find a lot of great poems in smaller journals, this poem being a great example. Thanks fot reading! See you Sunday!