Six Poems
Poetry by Natasha O’Hara
The Fall of the House of Thebes
Oedipus! Oedipus Rex
have you been vexed enough?
Didn’t just wreck it all
made sure it was mother fucked
made sure it wasn’t a proverb
but a promise instead.
Bled dry, don’t cry, dead lie
just like you do, Oedipus.
Oedipus Tyrannus
what’s the cost of ignorance?
Count gold beads
undress your arrogance
swallow pomegranate seeds
know what you’re not, Oedipus.
Oedipus the king, kiss the ring, love the spring
seek, seek, seek, but you’ll never see her
or anyone
or anything
ever again.
1. from Fire Sonnets
Somehow, seeing Cass cook bacon over
the campfire, after dawn’s radiance melts
into azure, takes me back to simpler
times. We’re fighting the blue devils with a
fauna fix. She’s sure of this. She’s sure of
everything her mind ignites. But know this,
some wrongs will work out just fine. Strive for right.
Doing no harm isn’t viable. Strive
to heal. Deep dive into Lake Huron. Feel
the sting as you breach. Breathe through chattering
teeth. The water loves you too. Swim out to
the Island. Drink from Dwightwood Spring,[1] then sing
to the loons and the stars. Remember who
you are. You may want fire’s love. Fire doesn’t care.
[1] Dwightwood Spring is a historical landmark located in Mackinac Island, Michigan.
Residue
We found a body
in the stomach of that healthy
horse, the one she always gushed
over we thought the bloat
was from the typical release
of gases we only knew it was you
by the finger bone death grip
around the neck of your golden
fiddle Why did you climb
into its mouth
crawling under incisors and over
molars Did you find
it what you’ve always dreamed
of a city of clothespins piercing
the skin between shoulder blades
an ice bath with hypodermic needles
an aria that slices vital arteries
leaving only
traces of you
7. from Fire Sonnets
Yes, I am a star! A bloated, burning
ball of hot gas. Kids, get the farts out fast!
Whoever stays can handle your ass. Thank
the multiverse for second chances. Stink
or stank, sink or swim, we all fall and rise
again. Maybe we’ll remember to love
the meat suits we’ve been born in rather than
flaying our layers back until we prove
we bleed blue too. We are but one, diverse,
complex, we evolve every day. Farming
fucked natural selection and made kings
out of animals. Fire’s natural, though
can be manipulated like all things.
YOU are natural! You’ve been selected.
A Case of the Blue Whales
Sea foam washes over the toes
of beach bums
and travelers
who’ve dug their soles
into white sand
and when the spray reaches the
top of their heads,
they relinquish
their woes
in exchange for cleansed
souls, as long as
Poseidon isn’t
in one of his
moods.
On those days, well…it’s like
breathing in
a blue whale.
Suddenly
everything feels
immense, yet nothing makes
sense
and the loudest sound
on the planet is moaning
a bass melody at
188 decibels,
rattling my brain
inside my marrow helmet
while no one
else around can
hear it.
11. from Fire Sonnets
Upscale debauchery isn’t much different
than low-end. Whether it’s playing strip-poker
at your local David Wooderson’s house-
party on a school night,[1] or body shots
at the opulent upside-down pineapple
club, drop-outs or doctors, these wildfires burn
in unison. Carnal pleasure isn’t
within the 2% missing from our
branch-bound cousin’s DNA. And they say,
every emerging generation brings
the apocalypse. Now, sitting topless
in the tree tops smoking Tom (with the mop
top)’s pot. Our dangling toes touch. If you want
top-notch debauchery, read a history book.
[1] David Wooderson is a character from the ’93 film Dazed and Confused.
BIO: Natasha O’Hara is an elementary educator and theatre maker in NW Indiana. Her poetry has recently been published in The Ladybug Zine, River & South Review, Ink Nest Poetry and Reverie Magazine. Last summer, O’Hara wrote, designed, and directed a scene for Notre Dame Shakespeare Festival After Hours, and has been asked back for their 2026 season. Instagram/Threads: @mrsnatashaohara