The Ghost of Cassandra Haunts Richard Nixon

Image © Jane Flett 2016


by  Lauren Yates March 7, 2016

“you needn’t be wrong to be called delusional.” – Vaughan Bell

i have never been one for politics. say “watergate” and I crave salad, not scandal. marshmallow // pineapple // pistachios—knock-off ambrosia, food of the gods. had i fucked him, i could have had the real thing. or maybe i prefer imitation crab meat. maybe i only play domme in vegan leather. i mistook puppet strings for cobwebs. mistook apollo for the overlord of my heartbeat. he liked to eat me on checkerboard tablecloths. he said I tasted like star anise. never licorice. as if that were too basic. too mortal.
then my one-time yes became his expectation.
there are days when i only like kissing. days when i only like holding hands. days when i want to be held by my waist and not my hips. apollo did not believe me. now no one does.
you never thought a woman could foil your plan. so you slipped whiskey in her coffee. renamed the strait jacket “self-love” and marveled at how spectacularly she hugged herself. how well she had learned to swallow.
dick, you are apollo. you are apollo. you dick.
they say sleep is the cousin of death.
really, truth is the ex-wife of madness.
there will be no alimony.
my heart has been replaced by steam.
an untethered ram’s skull floats through my body.
i am used to being broken into.
it is called being a woman // a white house // a prophet. 




Lauren Yates is a native Californian who is now based in Philadelphia. Lauren relocated from the West Coast to study English at the University of Pennsylvania, and she is now working toward a M.Ed. in Counseling Psychology at Temple University. When she isn’t writing poetry or processing feelings, Lauren enjoys roller derby, making zines, and fantasizing about her would-be rap career. She is a Leo and a proud INFJ. For more information, visit

Jane Flett is an over-excitable pervert with a penchant for ridiculous metaphors and glitter. She’s won various awards, including Salt’s Best British Poetry (2012) and Wigleaf’s Top 50 (Very) Short Fictions (2014), but she’s still waiting to be presented with her honorary tiara and tankard of gin. When Jane’s not writing, she likes to play cello with Ambika in the riot grrl band Razor Cunts, teach creative writing courses through The Reader Berlin, run festivals, host queer events, and rollerskate down Tempelhof runways in hotpants.


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