"Feed the Head" by Ginger Dehlinger

Feed the Head 

I walked into a bar with my head under my arm.
No blood — just a flat manikin neck
between my shoulders.

I sat my curly noggin on the stool next to me.
“I can’t see the TV,” it whined,
mumbling something about the evening news.

“Margarita, no salt,” my head told the bartender.
The pale green liquid arrived with a long straw.
I wolfed it down like a parched camel.

The tavern teemed with zodiac animals.
A Taurus poked my cheek to see if I was real;
fell back with a shriek when my eyes rolled.

“You gotta see this,” Taurus said to Scorpio.
An Aries sampled my salt-lick neck;
got a taste of my fists, though my aim suffered some. 

By our third margarita, my head was showing off,
harmonizing with Prince, Cher, Willie
and doing Sylvester Stallone impressions.

“What does your other half do?” asked Leo. 
“He’s my body guard,” said my head. 
I flexed my biceps and did some squats. 

The happy-hour circus muscled closer. 
Pisces was gasping for air 
so I picked up my head and left. 

My mouth whispered to my armpit, 
“We’re not done here, are we? 
Only the worm in the tequila knows 
how to survive this land of lunacy.” 

Ginger Dehlinger

Ginger Dehlinger writes in multiple genres, and, though she hasn't published a book of poetry, several of her individual poems have been recognized, beginning in 2013 with "If I Wore Sensible Shoes” in Gold Man Review and most recently with "Wild Gold" in the 2019 summer edition of Gyroscope Review. Another poem, “A Bar Stool’s Lament,” received an honorable mention in the 79th Writer’s Digest Writing Competition. Best known for her novels Brute Heart and Never Done, Ginger lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband and a cat.

Headshot: Amy Sandrin

Photo Credit: Staff