there we are again
coupled up thigh to thigh
forearms sticking to the syrup and
coffee residue
this is one place you're always you
it's 4:30 a.m. and I know I don't look good
lip sticking to my gums
and somehow the two booths the seven
of us are taking up feel connected
and some of that magic spills out when you ask
me about one of the country songs I wrote, so I start in
and you harmonize
and he comes in
and the three of us are sitting there belting out crawl space
while our guests look on at us
like we're really country superstars.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Imaginary children
"I don't know, baby. They
say some people are from the right
side of the tracks. Some people from the
wrong side of the tracks. I just know I
got so much railroad running through
me I feel like I am the tracks. And
the train, too."
say some people are from the right
side of the tracks. Some people from the
wrong side of the tracks. I just know I
got so much railroad running through
me I feel like I am the tracks. And
the train, too."
Friday, March 23, 2012
Outbound trains
I know there are things that I shouldn't do-
situations divided by earthquaking sidewalks
and I jump at the last minute towards you.
The same sidewalks you use as an excuse to be
gentlemanly; tucking me away inside, reminding me of someone
I'd never mention to you. Secrets from secrets
available weekly at the dollar matinee. There are things that you
used to say, continue to say, things that I keep tucked away
in a tiny envelope, in a tiny file folder inside of a teeny filing cabinet
way in the back of my mind. Things I can't bear repeating
to anyone else but you, months after the fact maybe only as a reminder to myself
"Hey, remember one time you told me..."
and you smile-of course you remember-unless of course we were drinking.
and were we drinking? were we breathing? was I soft dancing in your kitchen,
spilling droplets of champagne?
You made me a million flowers but you hate when I play with your dolls
though I (like to) think that you liked when me and my best friend curled up inside your bed,
turned on your Chinese lamps and hid our heads under your down feather pillows. Giggling
softly because that's where you found me, you found me again
after a stint in my backseat where you thought I was dead.
Woke up with the windows down, keys above my head and crawled up your
stairs, locking you out, I'll never know how you got back in.
Swinging from rafters and hiding behind trains, we go months without speaking then
pick up again. Like star crossed losers on a West bound train and I tell
you the wrong songs on purpose.
situations divided by earthquaking sidewalks
and I jump at the last minute towards you.
The same sidewalks you use as an excuse to be
gentlemanly; tucking me away inside, reminding me of someone
I'd never mention to you. Secrets from secrets
available weekly at the dollar matinee. There are things that you
used to say, continue to say, things that I keep tucked away
in a tiny envelope, in a tiny file folder inside of a teeny filing cabinet
way in the back of my mind. Things I can't bear repeating
to anyone else but you, months after the fact maybe only as a reminder to myself
"Hey, remember one time you told me..."
and you smile-of course you remember-unless of course we were drinking.
and were we drinking? were we breathing? was I soft dancing in your kitchen,
spilling droplets of champagne?
You made me a million flowers but you hate when I play with your dolls
though I (like to) think that you liked when me and my best friend curled up inside your bed,
turned on your Chinese lamps and hid our heads under your down feather pillows. Giggling
softly because that's where you found me, you found me again
after a stint in my backseat where you thought I was dead.
Woke up with the windows down, keys above my head and crawled up your
stairs, locking you out, I'll never know how you got back in.
Swinging from rafters and hiding behind trains, we go months without speaking then
pick up again. Like star crossed losers on a West bound train and I tell
you the wrong songs on purpose.
husb
you, beautiful you and me with
my fingers in your hair. sometimes you don't like it
when I pet you like a dog. you, darling you with
your hands on my back. sometimes I have to beg
you but other times you really want to. and I watch
as you comb your hair in the mirror, one eye on
yourself, one eye on me standing behind you, my
head on your shoulders, still wet from the shower.
you, beautiful you and me incomplete without you
around; never the same since I met you. and when
you leave you take a chunk of my heart and I'm
incomplete without it; left waiting on the sound of
your tires on gravel, the turning of the door knob,
the sound of your sweet voice.
my fingers in your hair. sometimes you don't like it
when I pet you like a dog. you, darling you with
your hands on my back. sometimes I have to beg
you but other times you really want to. and I watch
as you comb your hair in the mirror, one eye on
yourself, one eye on me standing behind you, my
head on your shoulders, still wet from the shower.
you, beautiful you and me incomplete without you
around; never the same since I met you. and when
you leave you take a chunk of my heart and I'm
incomplete without it; left waiting on the sound of
your tires on gravel, the turning of the door knob,
the sound of your sweet voice.
xoxo
you: gnawing, gnashing the air and your words
penetrate, hang there for awhile above our bed. shiny, metallic
not unlike a happy birthday banner. tacky, cold and cruel even
after you've snatched away my pillow, moved to a different room.
me: reaching for you throughout the night, coming up empty handed
and lonely. covered up only in residual resentment and tangled
pale blue sheets.
penetrate, hang there for awhile above our bed. shiny, metallic
not unlike a happy birthday banner. tacky, cold and cruel even
after you've snatched away my pillow, moved to a different room.
me: reaching for you throughout the night, coming up empty handed
and lonely. covered up only in residual resentment and tangled
pale blue sheets.
sometimes I'm surprised I'm not dead
that night we smashed the
stolen keyboard
...and anticlimactically at that
I wanted to turn back, try it again
but you see, that's what they call a metaphor and
we chased good feelings like we chased that German Shepherd
all the way down racetrack road.
Two boys and me in the back of a
pick-up truck, the driving boy drunk on sobriety and me
sober as a redneck bride.
I flattened my body on the cab of the truck, occasionally
popping down to scare him and his baseball cap
flew out into the open air, never to be found and
only later did we stop to realize
how lucky we were that we didn't share the same fate
stolen keyboard
...and anticlimactically at that
I wanted to turn back, try it again
but you see, that's what they call a metaphor and
we chased good feelings like we chased that German Shepherd
all the way down racetrack road.
Two boys and me in the back of a
pick-up truck, the driving boy drunk on sobriety and me
sober as a redneck bride.
I flattened my body on the cab of the truck, occasionally
popping down to scare him and his baseball cap
flew out into the open air, never to be found and
only later did we stop to realize
how lucky we were that we didn't share the same fate
awkward teenage years
the light in your bedroom was always dim,
that sky blue color looked so fuzzy
your bed, always covered in quilts, always inviting me in
and I remember you caught me staring into your quarters, I
blushed and walked off into the kitchen, realizing later
that you had followed. I could feel your eyes on my back and
you began cutting a grapefruit into two pieces-
offering me half
I declined and you fussed over the fact that I didn't like grapefruit
as your one night stand gathered her things and shyly
excused herself, looking at me in a way that evoked so many
emotions. eyes sad and hollow.
I felt so awkward in that moment, and you, I
guess you felt the need to explain
"I couldn't go through with things...with her,"
"Oh,"--I really didn't understand where this was headed
"See, I've got myself set on you, but, seeing as how I can't
have you..." your voice trailed off, as I gasped highly
flattered but unsure of
what exactly was to come next.
that sky blue color looked so fuzzy
your bed, always covered in quilts, always inviting me in
and I remember you caught me staring into your quarters, I
blushed and walked off into the kitchen, realizing later
that you had followed. I could feel your eyes on my back and
you began cutting a grapefruit into two pieces-
offering me half
I declined and you fussed over the fact that I didn't like grapefruit
as your one night stand gathered her things and shyly
excused herself, looking at me in a way that evoked so many
emotions. eyes sad and hollow.
I felt so awkward in that moment, and you, I
guess you felt the need to explain
"I couldn't go through with things...with her,"
"Oh,"--I really didn't understand where this was headed
"See, I've got myself set on you, but, seeing as how I can't
have you..." your voice trailed off, as I gasped highly
flattered but unsure of
what exactly was to come next.
friends like family like friends
You're outside my bedroom, let yourself in
this morning, brought me a biscuit
and as I'm getting dressed, I start to think
that we're the kind of people who always buy
each other breakfast.
I wonder if there's a word for that?
this morning, brought me a biscuit
and as I'm getting dressed, I start to think
that we're the kind of people who always buy
each other breakfast.
I wonder if there's a word for that?
Screen Windows
rain falls for wind the
same way sunshine falls to the ground
an empty warmth you remember from
when your friend would appear outside your
bedroom window
that flimsy screen the only thing keeping you separated
from him, from the night
and you wanted so badly for him to be able to crawl
into your bed, into your seven year old arms
wanting, even at that age, to be able to hold on to someone
or at least the idea of something
and you wish that just for once someone would recognize your plight
tell you that you're beautiful in spite of things
in spite of yourself
tell you that the way the sunlight hits you
makes you look golden and untouchable
you wish that just once someone wouldn't blame you for
their actions
wish someone knew that you only listened to that particular album
when you were done chasing off the blues, when you started inviting them on in
wish someone would pick up on the way you feel, just once, maybe
be aware of themselves, even
or at least just quit referencing mirror reflections and
the bad attitude you supposedly have
without stopping to ponder why, or if they might be the reason
But unfortunately, people will continue to be people
and you'll continue feeling under-appreciated
whenever you walk through that front door of home.
same way sunshine falls to the ground
an empty warmth you remember from
when your friend would appear outside your
bedroom window
that flimsy screen the only thing keeping you separated
from him, from the night
and you wanted so badly for him to be able to crawl
into your bed, into your seven year old arms
wanting, even at that age, to be able to hold on to someone
or at least the idea of something
and you wish that just for once someone would recognize your plight
tell you that you're beautiful in spite of things
in spite of yourself
tell you that the way the sunlight hits you
makes you look golden and untouchable
you wish that just once someone wouldn't blame you for
their actions
wish someone knew that you only listened to that particular album
when you were done chasing off the blues, when you started inviting them on in
wish someone would pick up on the way you feel, just once, maybe
be aware of themselves, even
or at least just quit referencing mirror reflections and
the bad attitude you supposedly have
without stopping to ponder why, or if they might be the reason
But unfortunately, people will continue to be people
and you'll continue feeling under-appreciated
whenever you walk through that front door of home.
Elgie (for Gib)
Remember us
as giggling underwear girls
in king-sized beds
laughing off hangovers
Remembering the night in pieces
as broken as your side-view mirror
Your daddy made you sign a contract to drive
and her daddy bought a mail-order bride and
moved to Mexico for three weeks
and my daddy, well, he wasn't around
But none of that stopped the sunlight
from spilling through the blinds
And nothing short of storm clouds ever will.
c.t. 2.15.10
as giggling underwear girls
in king-sized beds
laughing off hangovers
Remembering the night in pieces
as broken as your side-view mirror
Your daddy made you sign a contract to drive
and her daddy bought a mail-order bride and
moved to Mexico for three weeks
and my daddy, well, he wasn't around
But none of that stopped the sunlight
from spilling through the blinds
And nothing short of storm clouds ever will.
c.t. 2.15.10
We drank too much, we slept too little
well, it was more than that
more than what my boss mentions
when she brings it up haphazardly
says she's glad he won, glad it worked out
glad I picked him, glad of things that I sometimes
wish she wouldn't talk about so loud in the lobby
of our incredibly nosy office.
the thing that I haven't told her is that it's more than that
I mean, it always is.
I've alluded though, I've told her that there's more
and one day, maybe one Saturday drive, or Sunday that I'm
cranking back pinot grigios in her backyard
I'll let her know the whole thing in its entirety
if by then I can figure it out on my own.
some things are best to summarize, others best to forget
and I'm caught somewhere in this storm myself
only because the one that won keeps bringing it up.
"Are you going blind, dear?" and I get no answer
maybe he's also going deaf.
but all those memories are orange
a flash, a bright, a fleeting sound
too many hes to make coherent sense of
a small collection of words.
he the second hit me hard, in all senses of the word
came out of nowhere, captivating me
came out of nowhere, fist planted
squarely in my jaw
and I felt afterward that I
could breathe fire, that I took up too little room
I wanted to be bigger, I wanted to be needed
and in the end, I got only mere fractions
of everything. In the end, I made a mess comparable
to the recent tornadoes, I made a mess of
every single persons emotions, every single person that I ever-
ever-ever met. I thought of no one but myself, and there was that
one night, packing my things, where he the first held me and told me
that I didn't have to go. he loved me in spite
of my selfishness. should a girl feel lucky about this?
or sick?
but I ended that chapter momentarily; at the time
in my mind, I did have to go, I did have to try
On one end of the tunnel, I'd still be wondering what might have been
on this end of the tunnel, I'm wondering how it may have remained
or maybe crumbled-
the days when home felt foreign
when I felt more alive, more comfortable, more loved
in a bar 45 minutes away from my house
a teeny-tiny, hole-in-the-wall, no-cover-ever, walk-through-the-
band-to-get-to-the-bathroom
dive-bar where if the bartenders like you
more than what my boss mentions
when she brings it up haphazardly
says she's glad he won, glad it worked out
glad I picked him, glad of things that I sometimes
wish she wouldn't talk about so loud in the lobby
of our incredibly nosy office.
the thing that I haven't told her is that it's more than that
I mean, it always is.
I've alluded though, I've told her that there's more
and one day, maybe one Saturday drive, or Sunday that I'm
cranking back pinot grigios in her backyard
I'll let her know the whole thing in its entirety
if by then I can figure it out on my own.
some things are best to summarize, others best to forget
and I'm caught somewhere in this storm myself
only because the one that won keeps bringing it up.
"Are you going blind, dear?" and I get no answer
maybe he's also going deaf.
but all those memories are orange
a flash, a bright, a fleeting sound
too many hes to make coherent sense of
a small collection of words.
he the second hit me hard, in all senses of the word
came out of nowhere, captivating me
came out of nowhere, fist planted
squarely in my jaw
and I felt afterward that I
could breathe fire, that I took up too little room
I wanted to be bigger, I wanted to be needed
and in the end, I got only mere fractions
of everything. In the end, I made a mess comparable
to the recent tornadoes, I made a mess of
every single persons emotions, every single person that I ever-
ever-ever met. I thought of no one but myself, and there was that
one night, packing my things, where he the first held me and told me
that I didn't have to go. he loved me in spite
of my selfishness. should a girl feel lucky about this?
or sick?
but I ended that chapter momentarily; at the time
in my mind, I did have to go, I did have to try
On one end of the tunnel, I'd still be wondering what might have been
on this end of the tunnel, I'm wondering how it may have remained
or maybe crumbled-
the days when home felt foreign
when I felt more alive, more comfortable, more loved
in a bar 45 minutes away from my house
a teeny-tiny, hole-in-the-wall, no-cover-ever, walk-through-the-
band-to-get-to-the-bathroom
dive-bar where if the bartenders like you
they'll never charge you and on Saturday nights
when the liquor laws are against you, they'll sometimes send you home
with a six-pack of to-go beers to help you maintain your buzz.
days that I slept too little, nights that I drank too much
things don't ever really get figured out that way
or maybe they do, hell
But I took a deep breath of relief when I found out that my haunts are
still standing, knowing that really
I was just worried about my memories, most that I've now tucked away
flying out all over the place, exposing me, for all the world to see.
And maybe none of this fits together to you, and maybe you don't find it any good,
or to have any merit, but it doesn't have to, it doesn't have to be
and sometimes, that's the hardest concept to grasp.
when the liquor laws are against you, they'll sometimes send you home
with a six-pack of to-go beers to help you maintain your buzz.
days that I slept too little, nights that I drank too much
things don't ever really get figured out that way
or maybe they do, hell
But I took a deep breath of relief when I found out that my haunts are
still standing, knowing that really
I was just worried about my memories, most that I've now tucked away
flying out all over the place, exposing me, for all the world to see.
And maybe none of this fits together to you, and maybe you don't find it any good,
or to have any merit, but it doesn't have to, it doesn't have to be
and sometimes, that's the hardest concept to grasp.
Penelope
She was tickled pink
so tiptoe early
and he knew right then
right away
as she slung her hair back
and he took in her light blue fragrance
that she was the type of girl who'd always want more
she wouldn't be satisfied with a simple boy like him
and more he could not give.
so tiptoe early
and he knew right then
right away
as she slung her hair back
and he took in her light blue fragrance
that she was the type of girl who'd always want more
she wouldn't be satisfied with a simple boy like him
and more he could not give.
3's
We were walking, somewhat aimlessly
mainly, I guess, just so we wouldn't fall asleep again
Most of the weekend passed without us even being aware
curled up together on the pull-out couch
but here we were walking off
the fancy bread powdered with sugar
stuffed with cheese
covered in syrup
walking in 3s, but not in a straight line
not military style, not in one pair and a single
just walking.
Her in front, her stride confident
she made it obvious what she had, not the other way around
Him behind me, his keys on his belt loop
jingling with every step
at first annoying me, but then becoming necessary, as I found myself
stepping in stride to the beat.
The houses were nice, but I never felt quite safe in Memphis
I'd felt safer in East Lake,
standing on a train platform in Woodbridge,
in the woods alone, on any given night
But Memphis didn't seem to mind my hesitance
I saw it in the eyes of the homeless man, poised on the corner
he didn't mind my fear, he got full off of it
But as she drug her trash can from the street
-still in his view-
the giant #2 painted on it
made me nervous for her safety.
mainly, I guess, just so we wouldn't fall asleep again
Most of the weekend passed without us even being aware
curled up together on the pull-out couch
but here we were walking off
the fancy bread powdered with sugar
stuffed with cheese
covered in syrup
walking in 3s, but not in a straight line
not military style, not in one pair and a single
just walking.
Her in front, her stride confident
she made it obvious what she had, not the other way around
Him behind me, his keys on his belt loop
jingling with every step
at first annoying me, but then becoming necessary, as I found myself
stepping in stride to the beat.
The houses were nice, but I never felt quite safe in Memphis
I'd felt safer in East Lake,
standing on a train platform in Woodbridge,
in the woods alone, on any given night
But Memphis didn't seem to mind my hesitance
I saw it in the eyes of the homeless man, poised on the corner
he didn't mind my fear, he got full off of it
But as she drug her trash can from the street
-still in his view-
the giant #2 painted on it
made me nervous for her safety.
Dissolve
It takes about three weeks
for your family to dissolve.
It starts with a death.
Someone strong that held you together will pass
& then the vultures and the buzzards come out of the woodwork
wanting their piece of the cut
and when there isn't a cut, they don't accept it
Instead they seek high power lawyers and waste
time and money
They waste precious energy
they tear you down, no matter how strong you think you are
Then you'll wake up one morning,
and pulling out of your driveway, there will be two crows
leering at you from your neighbor's tree
the tree you hate because it litters your yard with leaves
when you don't even have a tree
The tree you curse every Spring, rake in hand
these crows will look at you through their beady black eyes
and translate that your world is going to come crashing down
You know it, but what can you do?
You drive on to work anyway,
maybe more carefully than you would typically drive
and you wait
You wait on whatever it is that's coming
You've got plans you're looking forward to
and at around noon, those plans will be canceled by
a crying, inconsolable cousin
who tells you that her daddy is cheating on her mommy
her daddy and mommy who have always been a set of second parents to you
her mommy who took care of the one that held it all together
and is already vulnerable and depressed
who just turned 50 on Tuesday
who the plans were for, to celebrate
who just this year, will celebrate the 25th anniversary of marriage to
the daddy figure, who cheated on her after she spent exactly half her life with him
cheated with someone young enough to be his daughter
cheated with someone as old as their marriage
and she will tell you that
She just wants to die
that if the youngest daughter was through with college that
she'd kill herself.
And you've got all this on your shoulders
and you weep yourself to sleep
after spending hours on the phone with her
pleading her to not be rash
telling her what she has to look forward to
and she'll break your heart to pieces by telling you
"I used to look forward to him,"
And you'll plead with your husband
to never put you through this
and your husband will promise, over cheeseburgers
that he's not like that
and then he'll ask you if you still love your uncle
and when you shrug he'll berate you for being so cold.
He'll tell you that most people can't turn off their love switch just like that
and tell you how sadistic you are for finding enjoyment in cursing out the florist.
And you tell him, between mouth fulls, that it takes about exactly three weeks.
Three weeks for your family to dissolve.
for your family to dissolve.
It starts with a death.
Someone strong that held you together will pass
& then the vultures and the buzzards come out of the woodwork
wanting their piece of the cut
and when there isn't a cut, they don't accept it
Instead they seek high power lawyers and waste
time and money
They waste precious energy
they tear you down, no matter how strong you think you are
Then you'll wake up one morning,
and pulling out of your driveway, there will be two crows
leering at you from your neighbor's tree
the tree you hate because it litters your yard with leaves
when you don't even have a tree
The tree you curse every Spring, rake in hand
these crows will look at you through their beady black eyes
and translate that your world is going to come crashing down
You know it, but what can you do?
You drive on to work anyway,
maybe more carefully than you would typically drive
and you wait
You wait on whatever it is that's coming
You've got plans you're looking forward to
and at around noon, those plans will be canceled by
a crying, inconsolable cousin
who tells you that her daddy is cheating on her mommy
her daddy and mommy who have always been a set of second parents to you
her mommy who took care of the one that held it all together
and is already vulnerable and depressed
who just turned 50 on Tuesday
who the plans were for, to celebrate
who just this year, will celebrate the 25th anniversary of marriage to
the daddy figure, who cheated on her after she spent exactly half her life with him
cheated with someone young enough to be his daughter
cheated with someone as old as their marriage
and she will tell you that
She just wants to die
that if the youngest daughter was through with college that
she'd kill herself.
And you've got all this on your shoulders
and you weep yourself to sleep
after spending hours on the phone with her
pleading her to not be rash
telling her what she has to look forward to
and she'll break your heart to pieces by telling you
"I used to look forward to him,"
And you'll plead with your husband
to never put you through this
and your husband will promise, over cheeseburgers
that he's not like that
and then he'll ask you if you still love your uncle
and when you shrug he'll berate you for being so cold.
He'll tell you that most people can't turn off their love switch just like that
and tell you how sadistic you are for finding enjoyment in cursing out the florist.
And you tell him, between mouth fulls, that it takes about exactly three weeks.
Three weeks for your family to dissolve.
fragment of a conversation
-and they don't push shit on me
so I assume not Christians
because most Christians here...
well,
they push shit on you
hard
like the other night, for instance
me, Raven and Laurel were having a dance party in my living room
records and wine and girl time and it was lovely
and we were up late
and when we woke up
someone had shoved a Christian pamphlet under my front door
into my living room
it was about "getting close to Jesus and your family"
I was getting close to my family, bitches
I was dancing with two of my best girlfriends
and there was wine
in place of Jesus
you know, in his honor
oh and we used my Catholic prayer candles as microphones
how did they not know all this?
so I assume not Christians
because most Christians here...
well,
they push shit on you
hard
like the other night, for instance
me, Raven and Laurel were having a dance party in my living room
records and wine and girl time and it was lovely
and we were up late
and when we woke up
someone had shoved a Christian pamphlet under my front door
into my living room
it was about "getting close to Jesus and your family"
I was getting close to my family, bitches
I was dancing with two of my best girlfriends
and there was wine
in place of Jesus
you know, in his honor
oh and we used my Catholic prayer candles as microphones
how did they not know all this?
I don't care, do you?
we can go from this to that
but she only loves me when she's drinking
that's not entirely true
but we're just more comfortable
skin for skin
and now we're talking about wingspan and laying on tables and
lying through our teeth
because secrets hold you together better than blood
better than water
better than glue
and we're getting dirty looks from the school girl hooker, but...
but she only loves me when she's drinking
that's not entirely true
but we're just more comfortable
skin for skin
and now we're talking about wingspan and laying on tables and
lying through our teeth
because secrets hold you together better than blood
better than water
better than glue
and we're getting dirty looks from the school girl hooker, but...
H
I came to this place because
being here
it always reminds me of you
you and me back then, remember?
when it was crumpled up t-shirts from off the floor
and goose chases
-the goose being a buzz
and the sun and the grass were there
& things were so beautiful, so easy for me and you
but we didn't even know enough back then to realize.
But I think about you, about us, about that
as I pick the onions carefully out of my hashbrowns
drink my coffee too slow,
pick up the phone to dial you and you say
"Hey, I was just thinking about you, too."
being here
it always reminds me of you
you and me back then, remember?
when it was crumpled up t-shirts from off the floor
and goose chases
-the goose being a buzz
and the sun and the grass were there
& things were so beautiful, so easy for me and you
but we didn't even know enough back then to realize.
But I think about you, about us, about that
as I pick the onions carefully out of my hashbrowns
drink my coffee too slow,
pick up the phone to dial you and you say
"Hey, I was just thinking about you, too."
I got just the right amount of sleep
I just read the most awful book I've ever read
but I'm in this crazy good mood
can't quite put my finger on it, don't quite want to
Decided I'm getting a tattoo, cracking myself up
and the last day of allowing myself to splurge on food,
went to Waffle House and sat at the bar, alone
reading the most awful book I've ever read
and what I ordered happened to be the day's special
watched as a waitress stared at me from the sliver of a window on the staff door
listened as another told a story that uninterested the oldest server
something something about marriage. marriage and eggs.
the old server didn't give a damn.
and they all practiced singing country music.
and the rain started pouring. it's so cold today, robbed of a fall, but still
I'm in a good mood
and my waitress told me she'd planned to walk to the bank, but the rain wouldn't let her
and I surprised myself by offering her a ride
she declined
and it's raining here, but not there, there but not here
text message typo: Ate you at lunch
well, that'd be interesting, surely
and I'm back, stuffed, full, still cracking myself up, still in love,
looking forward to a sleep over tonight
and discussions about silly tattoos and bad books and inside jokes and and
and
but I'm in this crazy good mood
can't quite put my finger on it, don't quite want to
Decided I'm getting a tattoo, cracking myself up
and the last day of allowing myself to splurge on food,
went to Waffle House and sat at the bar, alone
reading the most awful book I've ever read
and what I ordered happened to be the day's special
watched as a waitress stared at me from the sliver of a window on the staff door
listened as another told a story that uninterested the oldest server
something something about marriage. marriage and eggs.
the old server didn't give a damn.
and they all practiced singing country music.
and the rain started pouring. it's so cold today, robbed of a fall, but still
I'm in a good mood
and my waitress told me she'd planned to walk to the bank, but the rain wouldn't let her
and I surprised myself by offering her a ride
she declined
and it's raining here, but not there, there but not here
text message typo: Ate you at lunch
well, that'd be interesting, surely
and I'm back, stuffed, full, still cracking myself up, still in love,
looking forward to a sleep over tonight
and discussions about silly tattoos and bad books and inside jokes and and
and
for johnee (aka hot air saloons)
Another day in paradise,
aching feet from uncomfortable high heels
and a grocery bag of broken eggs
-not broken when purchased,
but rather when the grocery bag slipped from my fingers
broken grasp and broken shells
as I attempted to unlock the door.
All of this struggle, and there he sits on the couch
aloof to my homecoming
consumed in a cloud of weed smoke and a screen of Mario Kart
bright, colorful figures that could hold his interest much longer
than my breasts or legs ever could.
aching feet from uncomfortable high heels
and a grocery bag of broken eggs
-not broken when purchased,
but rather when the grocery bag slipped from my fingers
broken grasp and broken shells
as I attempted to unlock the door.
All of this struggle, and there he sits on the couch
aloof to my homecoming
consumed in a cloud of weed smoke and a screen of Mario Kart
bright, colorful figures that could hold his interest much longer
than my breasts or legs ever could.
Favorite red t-shirt
It belonged to my ex, but I still wear it
Hell, my heart belonged to him, too
Once
but that motherfucker still beats
Words are said through lashing lips
and you can never catch them once they're hanging in the air
and kisses are given under train trestles
Kisses you can't fully enjoy but want to
when the devil's on your shoulder
and your heart is on your sleeve,
but someone else is on your mind.
Hell, my heart belonged to him, too
Once
but that motherfucker still beats
Words are said through lashing lips
and you can never catch them once they're hanging in the air
and kisses are given under train trestles
Kisses you can't fully enjoy but want to
when the devil's on your shoulder
and your heart is on your sleeve,
but someone else is on your mind.
Bet she's not fickle like me
She's plain, but she's probably happy
with less windows to crawl into,
opportunities to swing from
Her face pale and her hair fire red
pink nose and a fat husband to whom she just mouthed
"I don't feel good,"
coughing into her hand before lighting up.
with less windows to crawl into,
opportunities to swing from
Her face pale and her hair fire red
pink nose and a fat husband to whom she just mouthed
"I don't feel good,"
coughing into her hand before lighting up.
everything runs together and bleeds
"Now you know what I meant back then," she said
and she was right, I agreed, I told her so
"Why do you have to leave? Just date me for like four more months," he said
and I laughed but couldn't oblige him
time was moving and I was salt in a shaker
just waiting for my turn
and she was right, I agreed, I told her so
"Why do you have to leave? Just date me for like four more months," he said
and I laughed but couldn't oblige him
time was moving and I was salt in a shaker
just waiting for my turn
take that
Corporate chodes interviewing
at the table next to me
eager to climb the dick sucking ladder
I stare at the one facing me, blankly
while picking off chunks of nail polish
& throwing it on their floor.
at the table next to me
eager to climb the dick sucking ladder
I stare at the one facing me, blankly
while picking off chunks of nail polish
& throwing it on their floor.
Walking
a residual affect from your lips
like a mustache of cola
spilled while drinking
and hitting a road bump
sticky, sweet
and I can lick it off
but I can't push off
the memories
and I couldn't push you off
of me, well, maybe
could have if I'd tried
like a mustache of cola
spilled while drinking
and hitting a road bump
sticky, sweet
and I can lick it off
but I can't push off
the memories
and I couldn't push you off
of me, well, maybe
could have if I'd tried
There was this Monday that I remember
I'd worn dirty jeans to school that day, of course
and they were still stained
with light marks of sweaty horse hair,
smelled like linament and leather
and he asked me
asked me to meet him outside
I figured it'd be like all the other times
he'd wanna talk about her
nobody wanted to talk to me about me
or about "us"
I was never apart of an us
but here he was, looking scruffy
walking towards me, as I leaned on the back
of Coach Haygood's old Pontiac
hands shoved into my jacket pockets
breeze blowing my hair in my face
Here he came right up to me,
leaned next to me,
breathed deeply
said
"Hey,"
Yeah, it was simple, sure
but being a nerd in high school is complex
and when the cutest boy in school says hey
it still makes your knees weak
"What did you want me to meet you for?"
"I don't want to be with her anymore, I've been thinking
you're a lot better of a person."
And he kissed me
the softest, sweetest kiss
the type of kiss that only people with similar sized tongues
and gums and teeth
and desire and passion
can achieve.
And I felt twangs of guilt
for kissing my best friend's boyfriend
but little did I know, that the rest of life would be
even harder.
and they were still stained
with light marks of sweaty horse hair,
smelled like linament and leather
and he asked me
asked me to meet him outside
I figured it'd be like all the other times
he'd wanna talk about her
nobody wanted to talk to me about me
or about "us"
I was never apart of an us
but here he was, looking scruffy
walking towards me, as I leaned on the back
of Coach Haygood's old Pontiac
hands shoved into my jacket pockets
breeze blowing my hair in my face
Here he came right up to me,
leaned next to me,
breathed deeply
said
"Hey,"
Yeah, it was simple, sure
but being a nerd in high school is complex
and when the cutest boy in school says hey
it still makes your knees weak
"What did you want me to meet you for?"
"I don't want to be with her anymore, I've been thinking
you're a lot better of a person."
And he kissed me
the softest, sweetest kiss
the type of kiss that only people with similar sized tongues
and gums and teeth
and desire and passion
can achieve.
And I felt twangs of guilt
for kissing my best friend's boyfriend
but little did I know, that the rest of life would be
even harder.
Hosting a Kid Party
While the kids were climbing over antique dining room furniture
dancing around with my acoustic guitar,
slamming the neck of my bass into the window unit,
knocking on the window to make the dogs bark,
eagerly sliding my vinyl records out of their cases,
attempting to operate the record player,
popping balloons in the den,
I touched Blake lightly on the leg and told him
"Baby, let's never have children."
dancing around with my acoustic guitar,
slamming the neck of my bass into the window unit,
knocking on the window to make the dogs bark,
eagerly sliding my vinyl records out of their cases,
attempting to operate the record player,
popping balloons in the den,
I touched Blake lightly on the leg and told him
"Baby, let's never have children."
I guess he already knows all of this
A nice day, and nothing particular on my mind
Shady patio, cool beer, company
She walked outside to take a smoke break and somehow conversation turned
to how long she'd been bartending
"Not long, but I'm an alcoholic," she joked
going on to say that she didn't even know
what made up a buttery nipple
"Me either, I had one that was hot once, and I almost puked."
"I almost puked last night because of a story that was told."
She smiled and paused and asked me if I'd like to hear it.
Of course I said I would
"Well, I was at the Nick last night, with Sienna*,
she used to work here, she got fired and that's how I got the job,
and her husband Kyle* is a psycho,"
"Wait, Kyle* D-----?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
"Yeah, he and I got into a verbal argument here, actually. He berated me for about ten minutes. He sucks."
"Yeah, well apparently he was out drinking at...oh, what's the place? T.C's? And he picked a fight with this drunk guy, and when he went to swing, the drunk guy just bit his hand, and bit his finger right off."
My jaw dropped, my eyes, I'm sure, were as big as plates
"That's Jesse! That's my ex-boyfriend!"
"Yeah, he recently passed away?"
"Yep. Wow, what a small, small universe."
I drove home, still laughing about the story
Laughing about the chances of it all happening
but then I got sad, wanted to call Jesse, wanted to give him a high five
buy him a beer, talk about what a douche bag Kyle* D---- is.
Instead, I sat outside by myself
holding the mail in my lap
content not reading it, but pretending to
while I tried desperately to talk to Jesse.
Shady patio, cool beer, company
She walked outside to take a smoke break and somehow conversation turned
to how long she'd been bartending
"Not long, but I'm an alcoholic," she joked
going on to say that she didn't even know
what made up a buttery nipple
"Me either, I had one that was hot once, and I almost puked."
"I almost puked last night because of a story that was told."
She smiled and paused and asked me if I'd like to hear it.
Of course I said I would
"Well, I was at the Nick last night, with Sienna*,
she used to work here, she got fired and that's how I got the job,
and her husband Kyle* is a psycho,"
"Wait, Kyle* D-----?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
"Yeah, he and I got into a verbal argument here, actually. He berated me for about ten minutes. He sucks."
"Yeah, well apparently he was out drinking at...oh, what's the place? T.C's? And he picked a fight with this drunk guy, and when he went to swing, the drunk guy just bit his hand, and bit his finger right off."
My jaw dropped, my eyes, I'm sure, were as big as plates
"That's Jesse! That's my ex-boyfriend!"
"Yeah, he recently passed away?"
"Yep. Wow, what a small, small universe."
I drove home, still laughing about the story
Laughing about the chances of it all happening
but then I got sad, wanted to call Jesse, wanted to give him a high five
buy him a beer, talk about what a douche bag Kyle* D---- is.
Instead, I sat outside by myself
holding the mail in my lap
content not reading it, but pretending to
while I tried desperately to talk to Jesse.
She
She called me last night
slightly buzzed, I could tell by her tone
said she was down the road, wanted to stop by
My hair, wet from an evening shower
I told her I'd be awake for a little while, but
not forever
With the hair dryer on high, he talked to me
and I was so tired of the conversation, I didn't bother telling him
that I couldn't hear a word
They came in soon after
their arrival announced by quick, short yips
the dog's way of greeting company
She laid across me on the couch, snuggling up
me with my arms around her
as she hiccuped severely, shaking me
with every heave of her chest.
slightly buzzed, I could tell by her tone
said she was down the road, wanted to stop by
My hair, wet from an evening shower
I told her I'd be awake for a little while, but
not forever
With the hair dryer on high, he talked to me
and I was so tired of the conversation, I didn't bother telling him
that I couldn't hear a word
They came in soon after
their arrival announced by quick, short yips
the dog's way of greeting company
She laid across me on the couch, snuggling up
me with my arms around her
as she hiccuped severely, shaking me
with every heave of her chest.
M. Antonio
You mean to tell me, you were my next door neighbor
the whole time, and you never told me who you were,
the whole time, and you protected me when I came in late
because you were wiser than me and knew that my boyfriend was a piece of shit?
And when I came in from the bars at 4 a.m. reeking, teetering
slamming taxi cab doors with no respect for time or sound,
You were looking out your blinds at me.
And when he'd drive off, you'd come over
offer me hash and Lortabs in exchange for company, and that worked out well for me.
I had nothing else to give.
But now, as I stumble upon a picture of Junot Diaz, I realize
that he looks just like you
and I like to pretend that it is you, and that you made up your name
your lifestyle
and you were hiding, hiding from me, hiding from everyone
never telling me who you really were
biding time and writing novels, bringing me drugs.
Opening up your blinds with two thin fingers, watching to make sure my key worked.
the whole time, and you never told me who you were,
the whole time, and you protected me when I came in late
because you were wiser than me and knew that my boyfriend was a piece of shit?
And when I came in from the bars at 4 a.m. reeking, teetering
slamming taxi cab doors with no respect for time or sound,
You were looking out your blinds at me.
And when he'd drive off, you'd come over
offer me hash and Lortabs in exchange for company, and that worked out well for me.
I had nothing else to give.
But now, as I stumble upon a picture of Junot Diaz, I realize
that he looks just like you
and I like to pretend that it is you, and that you made up your name
your lifestyle
and you were hiding, hiding from me, hiding from everyone
never telling me who you really were
biding time and writing novels, bringing me drugs.
Opening up your blinds with two thin fingers, watching to make sure my key worked.
heart to hearts
When we were doing back bends in Cabba Park
she pretty much did everything she could
and everything was about her,
you never even looked twice.
I watched my food at that dim cafe
studied every bite like I'd be tested on it
while you studied the curve of her legs
the dip of her neck
and to see you glancing like that
felt like I'd been stabbed
but I never let on...
Your shoes got stolen in the flood
swept right off your feet
I was familiar with the feeling
we went to so many places
but couldn't shake how they all felt the same
I've never stopped feeling the same
kids again, fat faces, gorged eyes
and it's like I never lost you in the flood.
she pretty much did everything she could
and everything was about her,
you never even looked twice.
I watched my food at that dim cafe
studied every bite like I'd be tested on it
while you studied the curve of her legs
the dip of her neck
and to see you glancing like that
felt like I'd been stabbed
but I never let on...
Your shoes got stolen in the flood
swept right off your feet
I was familiar with the feeling
we went to so many places
but couldn't shake how they all felt the same
I've never stopped feeling the same
about you
and when I close my eyes we're back therekids again, fat faces, gorged eyes
and it's like I never lost you in the flood.
Yesterday's behind us
It fit perfectly-
complimented my colors
You thought it was pretty, but you are biased
Long drive
Long talk
The conversations begin to exhaust me
I just don't know what I want.
That's all I can offer.
Staring out the window. Gray sky. Green lake.
We arrived at my dad's wedding reception
Light rain falling
My aunt Lisa running in her white cowboy boots
I could feel your tension, your awkwardness
I was called into a room
Family was to wear a corsage
The straps on my dress were so thin
it took 3 women to pin it on right
Resulting in puncture wounds all over my new dress
But the end result was nice
the pink flowers, baby breath and pearls
made me feel pretty
Girlie, yet like a woman
My cheeks hurt from all the pictures.
My dad placed a key in my palm. His eyes showed his hurt.
He touched you lightly on the shoulder.
I'm glad yesterday is behind us.
complimented my colors
You thought it was pretty, but you are biased
Long drive
Long talk
The conversations begin to exhaust me
I just don't know what I want.
That's all I can offer.
Staring out the window. Gray sky. Green lake.
We arrived at my dad's wedding reception
Light rain falling
My aunt Lisa running in her white cowboy boots
I could feel your tension, your awkwardness
I was called into a room
Family was to wear a corsage
The straps on my dress were so thin
it took 3 women to pin it on right
Resulting in puncture wounds all over my new dress
But the end result was nice
the pink flowers, baby breath and pearls
made me feel pretty
Girlie, yet like a woman
My cheeks hurt from all the pictures.
My dad placed a key in my palm. His eyes showed his hurt.
He touched you lightly on the shoulder.
I'm glad yesterday is behind us.
role reversal
the reason that I get
the hopeless, innocent feelings
for anyone that gives me a sweet smile
can be summed up by
the things you said tonight
with such vitriol and hate
and the way you looked at me, snarling
as you made that violent, trashy gesture
towards me
as I calmly left to drive my cousin home.
the hopeless, innocent feelings
for anyone that gives me a sweet smile
can be summed up by
the things you said tonight
with such vitriol and hate
and the way you looked at me, snarling
as you made that violent, trashy gesture
towards me
as I calmly left to drive my cousin home.
aspirations and cold air alleys
Did you do what you aspired to do
five years ago
when I passed you in the alley, in the cold
a time I hate so much to stop and chat
with the icy breeze blowing through my skin
whizzing by my ear
and you, talking slow as always
telling me what you aspired to do.
Did you do it?
I'd be happy for you either way.
I'd just be happier if you told me faster.
five years ago
when I passed you in the alley, in the cold
a time I hate so much to stop and chat
with the icy breeze blowing through my skin
whizzing by my ear
and you, talking slow as always
telling me what you aspired to do.
Did you do it?
I'd be happy for you either way.
I'd just be happier if you told me faster.
Summers in Texas
I used to think my bones were on fire and
the humidity used to make your nose bleed.
I remember you coming in from the field,
a long stream of dark reddish brown
pouring from your nose to your chin.
The first time I saw it, I thought someone hit you
and I wanted to find out who would do that to you,
wanted to hit them back.
Like the time those boys pushed me down the stairs
to the elementary school auditorium
and you found me in a ball on the ground,
asked me who did it
and in front of the teachers and the principal
grabbed them by their shirt collars
and told them to go to hell.
You got sent home, but you didn't get in trouble;
Dad slapped you on the back in a friendly sort of way.
Didn't say a word, but that was about as much encouragement
that a man like him could show.
Weeks later, he'd turn his back
as you and I kicked each others asses in the freezer aisle at the grocery store
and we'd turn our backs when he wolfed down
slaw dogs and roast beef sandwiches
that his low sodium diet restricted.
the humidity used to make your nose bleed.
I remember you coming in from the field,
a long stream of dark reddish brown
pouring from your nose to your chin.
The first time I saw it, I thought someone hit you
and I wanted to find out who would do that to you,
wanted to hit them back.
Like the time those boys pushed me down the stairs
to the elementary school auditorium
and you found me in a ball on the ground,
asked me who did it
and in front of the teachers and the principal
grabbed them by their shirt collars
and told them to go to hell.
You got sent home, but you didn't get in trouble;
Dad slapped you on the back in a friendly sort of way.
Didn't say a word, but that was about as much encouragement
that a man like him could show.
Weeks later, he'd turn his back
as you and I kicked each others asses in the freezer aisle at the grocery store
and we'd turn our backs when he wolfed down
slaw dogs and roast beef sandwiches
that his low sodium diet restricted.
Mexico Beach
We'd been on the road long enough
that all the Waffle Houses were becoming
Waffle Kings and I couldn't hold out any longer
on changing my feminine hygiene product.
Being on a road trip with two boys, I didn't want to
call too much attention to it,
just said I had to pee, wanted to stop before gas stations
became obsolete.
We pulled into the station and walked in
a motley, smelly crew. Tired from the road,
squinting at the fluorescents,
wobbly from the ride. And to my disappointment,
I found out that
the ladies restroom was out of service.
Fuck.
I pulled Gink aside, asked him if we could
maybe try to find somewhere else and
as we stood talking, we noticed two black women
emerging from the men's room. He nodded to me to
go for it. And I walked past an aisle of motor oils and
lighter fluids and
a short Mexican man in a red polo shirt
who gawked at me as I made my way in.
I'm normally not a squatter. Girls who squat are
the bane of my existence. I feel they are a part of the problem
not the solution, and so I was left cursing the black women
who left puddles of urine all over the seat.
Hovering, I reached down, tugging on the string
when I heard someone
pulling the door handle of the stall I was in.
"Just a minute," I called out
hurriedly trying to finish, when an arm caught my eye.
An arm that was hoisting it's owner
up and partially over the stall partition
and I saw with terror, half of the face of the Mexican gawker.
"GET DOWN ASSHOLE!" I screamed, shoving my tampon inside
of me quicker than I'd have liked and pulling up my pants
"GET THE FUCK DOWN!"
I flushed and ran out of the stall as he stood
creepily by the sink, facing the mirror
supposedly washing his hands.
that all the Waffle Houses were becoming
Waffle Kings and I couldn't hold out any longer
on changing my feminine hygiene product.
Being on a road trip with two boys, I didn't want to
call too much attention to it,
just said I had to pee, wanted to stop before gas stations
became obsolete.
We pulled into the station and walked in
a motley, smelly crew. Tired from the road,
squinting at the fluorescents,
wobbly from the ride. And to my disappointment,
I found out that
the ladies restroom was out of service.
Fuck.
I pulled Gink aside, asked him if we could
maybe try to find somewhere else and
as we stood talking, we noticed two black women
emerging from the men's room. He nodded to me to
go for it. And I walked past an aisle of motor oils and
lighter fluids and
a short Mexican man in a red polo shirt
who gawked at me as I made my way in.
I'm normally not a squatter. Girls who squat are
the bane of my existence. I feel they are a part of the problem
not the solution, and so I was left cursing the black women
who left puddles of urine all over the seat.
Hovering, I reached down, tugging on the string
when I heard someone
pulling the door handle of the stall I was in.
"Just a minute," I called out
hurriedly trying to finish, when an arm caught my eye.
An arm that was hoisting it's owner
up and partially over the stall partition
and I saw with terror, half of the face of the Mexican gawker.
"GET DOWN ASSHOLE!" I screamed, shoving my tampon inside
of me quicker than I'd have liked and pulling up my pants
"GET THE FUCK DOWN!"
I flushed and ran out of the stall as he stood
creepily by the sink, facing the mirror
supposedly washing his hands.
It's these things that make you feel alive
It was when the heat lightening turned into something more
and the impromptu grill-out became
trying to run chicken and vegetables back into the house
during a rainstorm.
It was when the power so dramatically cut out,
cut off the song Curtis Mayfield was singing to us
so abruptly that it startled me. Launching me off the couch to
light every Catholic candle I've got.
It was sitting at the table- on chairs that didn't match-
like a make-shift family.
My dad's candelabra providing our evening lighting
And we only paused chewing to tell her how good everything turned out.
It was us, sitting around in the dark, passing a bowl
me laughing at the things Heather said
that no one but me could decipher.
It was hugs goodnight, all around. And me stumbling
slowly blowing out every candle, ignoring all the noises
that an old house is prone to make when you're alone.
Forcing myself to doze on the couch
and try not to hate it too much that you weren't home.
It was 3 am when the power shot back on, lighting up the place
Curtis bellowing out the rest of his song to me,
bolting me off the couch to turn everything off and to
smell the milk that had since gone bad. A depressing waste of
eight dollars.
It was crawling into our bed and covering the pillow with a towel
so my sweat didn't stain the case.
Falling asleep holding the dog, knowing I'd see you soon.
and the impromptu grill-out became
trying to run chicken and vegetables back into the house
during a rainstorm.
It was when the power so dramatically cut out,
cut off the song Curtis Mayfield was singing to us
so abruptly that it startled me. Launching me off the couch to
light every Catholic candle I've got.
It was sitting at the table- on chairs that didn't match-
like a make-shift family.
My dad's candelabra providing our evening lighting
And we only paused chewing to tell her how good everything turned out.
It was us, sitting around in the dark, passing a bowl
me laughing at the things Heather said
that no one but me could decipher.
It was hugs goodnight, all around. And me stumbling
slowly blowing out every candle, ignoring all the noises
that an old house is prone to make when you're alone.
Forcing myself to doze on the couch
and try not to hate it too much that you weren't home.
It was 3 am when the power shot back on, lighting up the place
Curtis bellowing out the rest of his song to me,
bolting me off the couch to turn everything off and to
smell the milk that had since gone bad. A depressing waste of
eight dollars.
It was crawling into our bed and covering the pillow with a towel
so my sweat didn't stain the case.
Falling asleep holding the dog, knowing I'd see you soon.
Theres days when everyone's against you
"A conundrum?"
I guess.
But, it doesn't have to be
Theres days when everyone's on your side and
this ain't one of them.
I guess.
But, it doesn't have to be
I'd just rather not talk to them
or specifially, her.
That's what caused the rift with me and him
because he said that was fucked up on my part
and I said
Now, wait a minute
Now, wait a minute
I don't judge you for not having a relationship with your father
and he threw a little tantrum, foot stomping, the whole 9, while screaming that that's not the same.
Theres days when everyone's on your side and
this ain't one of them.
Shirley the Loon
She talked most of the time
in a fake British accent and
imitated Shirley the Loon
and it seemed as if she never realized that
harried & hurried
were two different words.
She claimed to write mystery novels
said she had an award-winning series out
but I worked at a bookstore and
had never heard of them before.
One older guy thought she was
the cat's ass
ya know, clean, smooth, tight
but I think he was just happy
to be back in school
and I didn't hold it against him.
I guess he figured out she was crazy
a few weeks after the rest of us
the day she started talking about airport security
and in the middle of her bitching rant
she somehow found it fitting to take her bra off
momentarily exposing two loose, flapping
stark-white breasts
nipples pointing straight to her shoes
some of us gasped, most of us nervously laughed,
almost all of us started packing up our things
a few more prudish girls went to tell on her
-and I'm not saying they shouldn't have,
that lady was crazy-
and next week when I came back for class
there was a paper on the door-saying she'd been
dismissed
class was canceled
and it was so late in the semester
that rather than finding another professor
they just gave us all B's.
in a fake British accent and
imitated Shirley the Loon
and it seemed as if she never realized that
harried & hurried
were two different words.
She claimed to write mystery novels
said she had an award-winning series out
but I worked at a bookstore and
had never heard of them before.
One older guy thought she was
the cat's ass
ya know, clean, smooth, tight
but I think he was just happy
to be back in school
and I didn't hold it against him.
I guess he figured out she was crazy
a few weeks after the rest of us
the day she started talking about airport security
and in the middle of her bitching rant
she somehow found it fitting to take her bra off
momentarily exposing two loose, flapping
stark-white breasts
nipples pointing straight to her shoes
some of us gasped, most of us nervously laughed,
almost all of us started packing up our things
a few more prudish girls went to tell on her
-and I'm not saying they shouldn't have,
that lady was crazy-
and next week when I came back for class
there was a paper on the door-saying she'd been
dismissed
class was canceled
and it was so late in the semester
that rather than finding another professor
they just gave us all B's.
McGuilicutty
I remember waking up, not knowing I was alone
Stretching my fingers over the
sliver of sunlight
that shone down through the pocket window
onto the white sheets with tiny yellow flowers.
Everything seemed hazy and
that bedroom in the single-wide trailer you lived in
was small, even for me.
I reached for you, but you were gone
and I sat up, panicked, my hairline damp with sweat
because you couldn't afford air condition and the window
was open but the air was stagnant.
The panic helped me shake off sleep and I
started to get up to find you,
when your head appeared in the window.
You were wearing your regular silly grin
showing off the gap between your two front teeth
as you handed me a furry, yellow chick
and I squealed in delight at your presence
while it scurried over the bed sheet
and took a shit on one of the yellow flowers.
Stretching my fingers over the
sliver of sunlight
that shone down through the pocket window
onto the white sheets with tiny yellow flowers.
Everything seemed hazy and
that bedroom in the single-wide trailer you lived in
was small, even for me.
I reached for you, but you were gone
and I sat up, panicked, my hairline damp with sweat
because you couldn't afford air condition and the window
was open but the air was stagnant.
The panic helped me shake off sleep and I
started to get up to find you,
when your head appeared in the window.
You were wearing your regular silly grin
showing off the gap between your two front teeth
as you handed me a furry, yellow chick
and I squealed in delight at your presence
while it scurried over the bed sheet
and took a shit on one of the yellow flowers.
For Hank
I've gotten laid and
made friends and enemies alike
all just by speaking your name
and I wonder what you'd think
about the way things are today
The internet and open perversion
and the thugs that walk the streets of
my old neighborhood
with their pants hanging off of their asses
and their hands gripping their cocks
The worst part is, really, it's all the same
as you left it
There will always be the corporate dicks on top
playing on the strings of the people who fall for it
dancing around like poorly made marionettes
And those of us who notice the strings
and see through the
bullshit are looking on from the outside
through windows we probably got paid to clean
For way less than it was worth
and the so-called artists are
trust-fund kids who've never had
to beg, borrow or steal
and whose guts hang over their jeans
because they've never gone a day starving
or eating nothing but sauteed onions and air sandwiches.
They buy expensive frames and hang up Klimt
only knowing who he is because a
girl they fucked in college had The Kiss
in poster form, hanging on the
white brick walls of her dorm room.
And their daddies buy them fancy cameras
and guitar amps and they show it off like they've
god damn earned it
and have the audacity to criticize
anyone who didn't grow up like them
I'm so very glad I'm not like them.
I'm not a praying woman, but maybe I should start
praying that I won't come back as one of 'em
& that I'll come back as an
un-neutered male cat instead.
made friends and enemies alike
all just by speaking your name
and I wonder what you'd think
about the way things are today
The internet and open perversion
and the thugs that walk the streets of
my old neighborhood
with their pants hanging off of their asses
and their hands gripping their cocks
The worst part is, really, it's all the same
as you left it
There will always be the corporate dicks on top
playing on the strings of the people who fall for it
dancing around like poorly made marionettes
And those of us who notice the strings
and see through the
bullshit are looking on from the outside
through windows we probably got paid to clean
For way less than it was worth
and the so-called artists are
trust-fund kids who've never had
to beg, borrow or steal
and whose guts hang over their jeans
because they've never gone a day starving
or eating nothing but sauteed onions and air sandwiches.
They buy expensive frames and hang up Klimt
only knowing who he is because a
girl they fucked in college had The Kiss
in poster form, hanging on the
white brick walls of her dorm room.
And their daddies buy them fancy cameras
and guitar amps and they show it off like they've
god damn earned it
and have the audacity to criticize
anyone who didn't grow up like them
I'm so very glad I'm not like them.
I'm not a praying woman, but maybe I should start
praying that I won't come back as one of 'em
& that I'll come back as an
un-neutered male cat instead.
the truth about skanks
They ask me what I think and I tell them
Then they get angry
Why do they ask then?
What's the point?
"Are you sure it wouldn't be cool?
She's going to buy a house with her boyfriend."
a) I don't care & b) it's not true
I've watched from a distance as she's draped herself
over any other man that would let her
Desperation reeks off of her and I know because
I'm all too familiar with the smell.
"She likes you, really,"
But she finishes her sentences with the word "yo"
and wears cowboy boots with soccer socks pulled to her knees
Both, to me, are character flaws
And besides, of course, she wouldn't tell them the truth
But I always do
And they always get angry
with me.
Then they get angry
Why do they ask then?
What's the point?
"Are you sure it wouldn't be cool?
She's going to buy a house with her boyfriend."
a) I don't care & b) it's not true
I've watched from a distance as she's draped herself
over any other man that would let her
Desperation reeks off of her and I know because
I'm all too familiar with the smell.
"She likes you, really,"
But she finishes her sentences with the word "yo"
and wears cowboy boots with soccer socks pulled to her knees
Both, to me, are character flaws
And besides, of course, she wouldn't tell them the truth
But I always do
And they always get angry
with me.
A long story the best way I can get it out
It was one of me and the boy's first dates
and I took him to the country to go fishing
on family land.
Two things that make me comfortable; fishing
and being there.
Brought my best friend along to make it three.
She'd never fished before and
he and I bonded
helping her untangle line and
teaching her to squish worms onto hooks
She's not a squeamish woman, by any means
But when she she caught a wiggling brim, I saw the
uneasiness in her eyes
as she contemplated how to get him free.
Noticing that we were short on hooks and beer
we decided to make a run to the bait store
about twenty miles down the road- a few miles of it unpaved
in a town called Cleveland
that somehow manages to be more boring
than anything in Ohio.
And who thought that possible?
We pulled up at the shop and since I was riding shotgun
and had just got paid-money burning a hole in my pocket
I offered to run in and grab some hooks
We'd drank a cooler full of beer and
we'd burned one on the way
so when I went in all of this hit me
and I scowled at the fluorescent lighting
and scoured the aisles for hooks.
Couldn't find them anywhere.
It was a bait store, and me being stoned
I walked around to make sure that they weren't hiding like a snake
waiting to bite me
Finally, I gave up and went to ask the woman at the register
Either she was elevated or she was 7 feet tall
Permed brown hair down to her ass
Curled and sprayed bangs.
Thick jowls and a mouth that looked like
it hadn't cracked in smile in twenty-something years.
I asked her for what we came to get and
she asked to see my license.
Odd, but I figured there was a reason
-when I was in high school, you'd get carded
if you were trying to buy eggs during Homecoming week.
I figured it was something like that
something to blame on teenagers and their pranks
So I handed it over and she turned around and reached up
for a black binder on a shelf behind her
and started jotting down my information.
I was starting to feel a little set up.
I looked out to the truck and shrugged.
"That'll be ten dollars."
My jaw dropped
"For some fishing hooks?"
"For a fishing LICENSE," she snarled
her Southern accent basically dripping on me
or maybe that was just spit.
"But...I didn't ask for a fishing license. I
asked for hooks."
"Well," she paused, agitated, "you SAW me get the BOOK out."
I nodded, it was true, I did and
not wanting to aggrivate her further by telling her
I had no idea what that meant,
forked over ten dollars for a fishing license
to fish on family land.
(c)ct 2010
and I took him to the country to go fishing
on family land.
Two things that make me comfortable; fishing
and being there.
Brought my best friend along to make it three.
She'd never fished before and
he and I bonded
helping her untangle line and
teaching her to squish worms onto hooks
She's not a squeamish woman, by any means
But when she she caught a wiggling brim, I saw the
uneasiness in her eyes
as she contemplated how to get him free.
Noticing that we were short on hooks and beer
we decided to make a run to the bait store
about twenty miles down the road- a few miles of it unpaved
in a town called Cleveland
that somehow manages to be more boring
than anything in Ohio.
And who thought that possible?
We pulled up at the shop and since I was riding shotgun
and had just got paid-money burning a hole in my pocket
I offered to run in and grab some hooks
We'd drank a cooler full of beer and
we'd burned one on the way
so when I went in all of this hit me
and I scowled at the fluorescent lighting
and scoured the aisles for hooks.
Couldn't find them anywhere.
It was a bait store, and me being stoned
I walked around to make sure that they weren't hiding like a snake
waiting to bite me
Finally, I gave up and went to ask the woman at the register
Either she was elevated or she was 7 feet tall
Permed brown hair down to her ass
Curled and sprayed bangs.
Thick jowls and a mouth that looked like
it hadn't cracked in smile in twenty-something years.
I asked her for what we came to get and
she asked to see my license.
Odd, but I figured there was a reason
-when I was in high school, you'd get carded
if you were trying to buy eggs during Homecoming week.
I figured it was something like that
something to blame on teenagers and their pranks
So I handed it over and she turned around and reached up
for a black binder on a shelf behind her
and started jotting down my information.
I was starting to feel a little set up.
I looked out to the truck and shrugged.
"That'll be ten dollars."
My jaw dropped
"For some fishing hooks?"
"For a fishing LICENSE," she snarled
her Southern accent basically dripping on me
or maybe that was just spit.
"But...I didn't ask for a fishing license. I
asked for hooks."
"Well," she paused, agitated, "you SAW me get the BOOK out."
I nodded, it was true, I did and
not wanting to aggrivate her further by telling her
I had no idea what that meant,
forked over ten dollars for a fishing license
to fish on family land.
(c)ct 2010
John
They say she started hitting him while he was driving
wailing on him to the point that he wrecked his car
and the airbag hit him so hard
it busted open his nose
and that's why he wore the bandage and got laughed at
by the teenagers buying their comics from his register.
She'd wear wigs most of the time.
Long, curly red. Short, flapper black. Hay-straw blonde.
But when she went without, she'd adorn her shaved head
with a rosary. Tying it around to where the cross
hung loosely over her forehead. Bouncing with every step.
I was taking my break on the patio. Cigarette and a magazine-
when she walked up to me to ask me had I noticed the lizards,
"They blow their chest out when they're horny, ya know?"
I nodded and hoped she'd go away. I already knew that about lizards.
She didn't work there, but she'd never leave.
Popping out from behind gondolas, telling me things like
"I've been up since six a.m., playing my tambourine and praising Jesus."
"Well, that's nice."
I always felt bad for John.
(c) ct 2010
wailing on him to the point that he wrecked his car
and the airbag hit him so hard
it busted open his nose
and that's why he wore the bandage and got laughed at
by the teenagers buying their comics from his register.
She'd wear wigs most of the time.
Long, curly red. Short, flapper black. Hay-straw blonde.
But when she went without, she'd adorn her shaved head
with a rosary. Tying it around to where the cross
hung loosely over her forehead. Bouncing with every step.
I was taking my break on the patio. Cigarette and a magazine-
when she walked up to me to ask me had I noticed the lizards,
"They blow their chest out when they're horny, ya know?"
I nodded and hoped she'd go away. I already knew that about lizards.
She didn't work there, but she'd never leave.
Popping out from behind gondolas, telling me things like
"I've been up since six a.m., playing my tambourine and praising Jesus."
"Well, that's nice."
I always felt bad for John.
(c) ct 2010
Angie
Math can't really be
fluffed or elaborated upon
to make it anything that it's not
but I try anyways
to convince the woman at the bank
-"See, my records show that I had $141.00...
so...there's no way I could have overdrawn
on a $36 bill to the pizza man."
She doesn't budge. She finds no amusement in my attempts.
Here eyes are glassy. I compliment her new hair cut
as if to say,
I know you. You know me.
Don't do this to me. Tell me there's been some mistake on your end
and I actually have more money.
I see her name plate-Angie
Angie Williamson.
I want to sing the Rolling Stones to her
especially the line about "no money in our coats."
Maybe I can humor her into pressing magic buttons
on her computer filled with money.
Instead
I turn around slowly
and just walk out.
fluffed or elaborated upon
to make it anything that it's not
but I try anyways
to convince the woman at the bank
-"See, my records show that I had $141.00...
so...there's no way I could have overdrawn
on a $36 bill to the pizza man."
She doesn't budge. She finds no amusement in my attempts.
Here eyes are glassy. I compliment her new hair cut
as if to say,
I know you. You know me.
Don't do this to me. Tell me there's been some mistake on your end
and I actually have more money.
I see her name plate-Angie
Angie Williamson.
I want to sing the Rolling Stones to her
especially the line about "no money in our coats."
Maybe I can humor her into pressing magic buttons
on her computer filled with money.
Instead
I turn around slowly
and just walk out.
Middle Man
The tension hung thick over the
dining room table
and I found great pleasure in
examining my finger nails
and a new found interest in
drawing wildflowers in
the margin of a very important piece of paper.
She'd talk. You'd appear tight,
unmoved by any attempts she made to
make the situation lighter.
Not only was the company odd,
we were surrounded by dizzying legalities
the laying out of a money issue
thousands of dollars passing hands and
I impolitely slid my chair away
and walked outside to kick leaves and
examine the stray cat's broken tail,
leaving the women inside to gossip.
You followed suit-
and we talked about automobiles and
installing hardwoods
Like I was the son you never had.
dining room table
and I found great pleasure in
examining my finger nails
and a new found interest in
drawing wildflowers in
the margin of a very important piece of paper.
She'd talk. You'd appear tight,
unmoved by any attempts she made to
make the situation lighter.
Not only was the company odd,
we were surrounded by dizzying legalities
the laying out of a money issue
thousands of dollars passing hands and
I impolitely slid my chair away
and walked outside to kick leaves and
examine the stray cat's broken tail,
leaving the women inside to gossip.
You followed suit-
and we talked about automobiles and
installing hardwoods
Like I was the son you never had.
Perspectives (of the Rode Hard and Put Up Wet)
and I was in the backyard with the dog
smoking a cigarette
when she came out
at this point, I was, you know, engaged
and I watched her do what I'd seen her do
to a million guys before
laughing too much at the things I said
things that were more true than funny.
and I watched her position herself
against the chain-link fence
in an attempt to come off as sexy
but her desperation was a smell I knew too well
and it shone through her eyes like hunger does in a stray cat
making me feel almost sorry for her.
my responses were course and dry
and she wasn't used to not getting what she wanted
but she wasn't gonna get it from me.
and this was years before I knew you
and years before you knew him
and years before all these lives would wind up propping against each others
the way they always do when you're from a small town.
smoking a cigarette
when she came out
at this point, I was, you know, engaged
and I watched her do what I'd seen her do
to a million guys before
laughing too much at the things I said
things that were more true than funny.
and I watched her position herself
against the chain-link fence
in an attempt to come off as sexy
but her desperation was a smell I knew too well
and it shone through her eyes like hunger does in a stray cat
making me feel almost sorry for her.
my responses were course and dry
and she wasn't used to not getting what she wanted
but she wasn't gonna get it from me.
and this was years before I knew you
and years before you knew him
and years before all these lives would wind up propping against each others
the way they always do when you're from a small town.
Dwight
Such an ugly man, but I love him
& the bartender tells me that:
"He can sing but he's ugly as shit."
and I tell him that the man is sexy and
he don't know a damn thing
about a woman's love for painted on jeans
and a twangy guitar riff.
& the bartender tells me that:
"He can sing but he's ugly as shit."
and I tell him that the man is sexy and
he don't know a damn thing
about a woman's love for painted on jeans
and a twangy guitar riff.
Dream
The streets, after a certain hour
became mayhem
everybody knows that certain roads close
and pedestrians turn it into a chaotic current
of oversized bicycles, and powerwalkers and horses and that woman...
with her dog
What is the significance of that woman in the white coat
and her tall white dog
with hair shaved into little balls
two of them-riding on his ass
I see her almost everywhere I go
I am hurried, she is not
Although the bustle prohibits further contact
I can't help but think it's more
than just coincidence
I'm learning so much about the city.
became mayhem
everybody knows that certain roads close
and pedestrians turn it into a chaotic current
of oversized bicycles, and powerwalkers and horses and that woman...
with her dog
What is the significance of that woman in the white coat
and her tall white dog
with hair shaved into little balls
two of them-riding on his ass
I see her almost everywhere I go
I am hurried, she is not
Although the bustle prohibits further contact
I can't help but think it's more
than just coincidence
I'm learning so much about the city.
Law Poem
2) Permanent Injunction
Irreparable harm
Inadequate remedy of law
Balance of hardships
Public interest
Irreparable harm
Inadequate remedy of law
Balance of hardships
Public interest
People can't think for themselves
People can't think for themselves.
Clipped out pictures,
recipes
family monotony
GPS systems
Social hierarchy.
chopping onions
People can't think for themselves.
Most cities I've been to are on a grid
I've been proficient in reading street signs while walking
it's amazing, really
to people with i-Phones.
Why think? There's an app for that
Use your brain? There's an app for that
Never get lost again.
Never discover anything new.
People can't think for themselves.
If I conducted a job the way you do
if I gave it that little thought
I wouldn't have a job
the issuance of the order will cause no substantial harm to the public
Say, is that what you really think about me?
Or is it sugar coated?
You see, I don't say things because I'm supposed to
I can in fact think for myself.
(c) CT 3.31.10
Clipped out pictures,
recipes
family monotony
GPS systems
Social hierarchy.
chopping onions
People can't think for themselves.
Most cities I've been to are on a grid
I've been proficient in reading street signs while walking
it's amazing, really
to people with i-Phones.
Why think? There's an app for that
Use your brain? There's an app for that
Never get lost again.
Never discover anything new.
People can't think for themselves.
If I conducted a job the way you do
if I gave it that little thought
I wouldn't have a job
the issuance of the order will cause no substantial harm to the public
Say, is that what you really think about me?
Or is it sugar coated?
You see, I don't say things because I'm supposed to
I can in fact think for myself.
(c) CT 3.31.10
Impossible to tell
Pieces, snippets, blurry lines
white lines, powder lines
short skirts and jukeboxes
don't lead to nothin' good.
What was said;remembered?
Talkers remorse usually
Drinkers remorse always
Bruises gained to constantly remind.
A walking double standard
falling double standard
If you don't know you're doing it
Can you be held accountable?
Brass band, horn section
A song I know too well
Blurry lines, dark places
Stories you don't remember
Are impossible to tell.
(c) CT 2010
white lines, powder lines
short skirts and jukeboxes
don't lead to nothin' good.
What was said;remembered?
Talkers remorse usually
Drinkers remorse always
Bruises gained to constantly remind.
A walking double standard
falling double standard
If you don't know you're doing it
Can you be held accountable?
Brass band, horn section
A song I know too well
Blurry lines, dark places
Stories you don't remember
Are impossible to tell.
(c) CT 2010
Adopted
We counted cockroaches crawling over the cabinets
where I hung the drawing I did of Jesus wearing a red t-shirt
on that bright blue paper that we found a box of
in her basement when she died.
And you'd wake me up every morning at 8:30
when Aunt Carla dropped you off and
we'd watch Woody Woodpecker and try to perfect his laugh
while drawing boats.
We were obsessed with boats.
And we'd paint fence posts on paper plates and hang them
over the washer and dryer
where all the lizards would congregate
to hear our secrets.
And we could see the sea of kudzu
threatening to take over the garage and hold it hostage
the way it did the barn
so many years ago.
Years we couldn't remember, but
we'd heard so many stories
that we adopted them as our own.
where I hung the drawing I did of Jesus wearing a red t-shirt
on that bright blue paper that we found a box of
in her basement when she died.
And you'd wake me up every morning at 8:30
when Aunt Carla dropped you off and
we'd watch Woody Woodpecker and try to perfect his laugh
while drawing boats.
We were obsessed with boats.
And we'd paint fence posts on paper plates and hang them
over the washer and dryer
where all the lizards would congregate
to hear our secrets.
And we could see the sea of kudzu
threatening to take over the garage and hold it hostage
the way it did the barn
so many years ago.
Years we couldn't remember, but
we'd heard so many stories
that we adopted them as our own.
Running
I watch him walk away
Mismatched socks on the hardwoods
Both grey but different lengths
Served a purpose earlier of protecting his feet from his boots
It's these slow summer days that keep me draggin'
Make me feel complacent, but also
Make me wonder if I should be somewhere else
Doing just about anything
Watching the rain, eating an icecream cone, living
I guess there's so many people in the world wantin' things
That if there is a God, he's thoroughly confused
Farmers wishin' for rain
Carnies wishin' for sunshine
Me wishing for an end to waking up in this melancholy town
I feel like I've been here forever
Yet there are roads I've still never gone down
& this leads me to believe I'm always gonna be hungry
Always gonna have a plastic star on my back
Always be wondering what he's gonna do next
Sitting here, grasping what it's all about
or at least what's missing
and what I think it's all about
Past lives don't go away
They lie quietly right across the street
Shining a familiar street light
Sometimes when it beckons
It makes you run harder away
Faster
And the tears that stream your cheeks aren't caused by pain for once
Or inner turmoil
But merely by the speed that you are moving
dodging old memories
And you think that you're running late
But you're the first one there
Maybe one of these times I'll run to one of those unfamiliar roads
Spend a day getting lost in my hometown
If that's even possible.
Something tugs at my sweater.
Shakes its head.
Tells me it's not.
Mismatched socks on the hardwoods
Both grey but different lengths
Served a purpose earlier of protecting his feet from his boots
It's these slow summer days that keep me draggin'
Make me feel complacent, but also
Make me wonder if I should be somewhere else
Doing just about anything
Watching the rain, eating an icecream cone, living
I guess there's so many people in the world wantin' things
That if there is a God, he's thoroughly confused
Farmers wishin' for rain
Carnies wishin' for sunshine
Me wishing for an end to waking up in this melancholy town
I feel like I've been here forever
Yet there are roads I've still never gone down
& this leads me to believe I'm always gonna be hungry
Always gonna have a plastic star on my back
Always be wondering what he's gonna do next
Sitting here, grasping what it's all about
or at least what's missing
and what I think it's all about
Past lives don't go away
They lie quietly right across the street
Shining a familiar street light
Sometimes when it beckons
It makes you run harder away
Faster
And the tears that stream your cheeks aren't caused by pain for once
Or inner turmoil
But merely by the speed that you are moving
dodging old memories
And you think that you're running late
But you're the first one there
Maybe one of these times I'll run to one of those unfamiliar roads
Spend a day getting lost in my hometown
If that's even possible.
Something tugs at my sweater.
Shakes its head.
Tells me it's not.
Empty
everything seems so empty without you
the closing of a red car door
sealing you off. separate directions. separate lives.
all these changes
discord and discontent meet elated happiness...
ah, pleased to meet you.
waiting on the benches, alone, for the girls to come
can't be seated until the entire party is present
I've always hated that 'rule'
why can't I sit at one of the 15 empty tables?
sip black coffee. people watch.
not have to listen to the very gay black man excitedly tell his Yankee boyfriend
"We from da South, we can make up ahh own words if we WANTU."
not feel as empty because you're not beside me.
you wrap around my thoughts like a ribbon
interrupted. acquainted. distracted. seated. full. yet still empty.
jittery from coffee. excitable with thoughts of you.
keeping my cool. poker faces and art magazines.
Lesbians and assholes.
This is how y'all spend your Saturdays? Really?
None of this really matters. Thoughts come to mind.
Sad librarians. Terminal positions.
Riding elevators-going up
unlike anything else in their pathetic, mundane lives
munching carrots. stoic faces. eyes void of emotion.
They look like I feel without you.
Like a sick child confined inside. Watching butterflies and other beautiful things fly by the window.
Unattainable.
But you have built things that can't be knocked down.
I close my eyes to remember.
Soft hum of the box fan. Soft hum of breathing. Soft hum of you and me.
CDT 09
the closing of a red car door
sealing you off. separate directions. separate lives.
all these changes
discord and discontent meet elated happiness...
ah, pleased to meet you.
waiting on the benches, alone, for the girls to come
can't be seated until the entire party is present
I've always hated that 'rule'
why can't I sit at one of the 15 empty tables?
sip black coffee. people watch.
not have to listen to the very gay black man excitedly tell his Yankee boyfriend
"We from da South, we can make up ahh own words if we WANTU."
not feel as empty because you're not beside me.
you wrap around my thoughts like a ribbon
interrupted. acquainted. distracted. seated. full. yet still empty.
jittery from coffee. excitable with thoughts of you.
keeping my cool. poker faces and art magazines.
Lesbians and assholes.
This is how y'all spend your Saturdays? Really?
None of this really matters. Thoughts come to mind.
Sad librarians. Terminal positions.
Riding elevators-going up
unlike anything else in their pathetic, mundane lives
munching carrots. stoic faces. eyes void of emotion.
They look like I feel without you.
Like a sick child confined inside. Watching butterflies and other beautiful things fly by the window.
Unattainable.
But you have built things that can't be knocked down.
I close my eyes to remember.
Soft hum of the box fan. Soft hum of breathing. Soft hum of you and me.
CDT 09
Pursuit
It's like the sunlight coming through my car window
Warming my right arm
Riding with you where we've been before
But things are different now.
Better. Lifted.
There's no ugliness in our tone
There's a different look in your eyes
Now we know things
...whatever that means
take it with a grain of salt
laugh at how tone deaf I am
I'm reminded of your face hosting a sunburn
& how green it makes your eyes
how we used to fight when there was a full moon
hell
how we used to fight when there was a sky up above us
Remembering when I didn't have anything to rush home to
except an empty house
Smirking at the thought of your nervous smile
before you moved in for the reunion
Sitting at the white table my dad gave me
that used to be so pretty
until the cat scratched all the paint off the corners
and ruined it like every other piece of furniture I have
I used to joke that I can't have anything nice
but that's not entirely true
Because here I am, sitting across from you.
Warming my right arm
Riding with you where we've been before
But things are different now.
Better. Lifted.
There's no ugliness in our tone
There's a different look in your eyes
Now we know things
...whatever that means
take it with a grain of salt
laugh at how tone deaf I am
I'm reminded of your face hosting a sunburn
& how green it makes your eyes
how we used to fight when there was a full moon
hell
how we used to fight when there was a sky up above us
Remembering when I didn't have anything to rush home to
except an empty house
Smirking at the thought of your nervous smile
before you moved in for the reunion
Sitting at the white table my dad gave me
that used to be so pretty
until the cat scratched all the paint off the corners
and ruined it like every other piece of furniture I have
I used to joke that I can't have anything nice
but that's not entirely true
Because here I am, sitting across from you.
Laying Tile
Things that make me feel dirty
won't stick around forever
a sunny day seems lost now
but I remember when.
A smaller waist, cleaner air
love notes you'd tape to my door handle
Sometimes I get so caught up in it all
contemplating what I caused
running away from guilt's lonesome handshake
every chance I get.
Our reasons for fear are just different.
They won't stay around forever.
On the way home at the red light
it looked like the road was getting longer
But it was probably just something I ate.
I remember how we had it set up
The light from the lamp
A car trunk full of letters tells my story
though some chapters I just want to forget.
won't stick around forever
a sunny day seems lost now
but I remember when.
A smaller waist, cleaner air
love notes you'd tape to my door handle
Sometimes I get so caught up in it all
contemplating what I caused
running away from guilt's lonesome handshake
every chance I get.
Our reasons for fear are just different.
They won't stay around forever.
On the way home at the red light
it looked like the road was getting longer
But it was probably just something I ate.
I remember how we had it set up
The light from the lamp
A car trunk full of letters tells my story
though some chapters I just want to forget.
Mr. Mom
I hear the shower gurgle
while I'm folding clothes.
Hear him cuss and throw things.
I calmly ask if I need to make arrangements
and he yells for me to shut the fuck up.
I can't wait to get married.
while I'm folding clothes.
Hear him cuss and throw things.
I calmly ask if I need to make arrangements
and he yells for me to shut the fuck up.
I can't wait to get married.
Small town
I don't know
what grade you were in
the one above me? the one above that?
All I know is now
everyone that used to talk bad about each other
now talks to each other
because they all graduated
and got really sad.
what grade you were in
the one above me? the one above that?
All I know is now
everyone that used to talk bad about each other
now talks to each other
because they all graduated
and got really sad.
Pneumonia
Saw the woman of my life today.
Sterilized rooms and breathing tubes.
High risk for falls, coded bracelets.
Her eyes closed upon my entry,
silver hairs framing her innocent face,
ebony hairs not too far behind.
I stood in the doorway a moment
watching her sleep,
breathing in. Breathing out. Fascinated by life.
Questioning my spirituality.
I felt a lump form in my throat as she awoke and smiled at me,
after I gently called out her name-
knowing this was the only woman I'd ever truly love
the only woman genuine enough to break me.
I sat at the foot of the bed, occasionally grazing her hand,
straining to decide if her eyes were brown or hazel,
struggling to remember the smell of our old house-
red carpet in the living room.
Blue carpet in the bedroom we shared.
I wish I could go back for just one evening.
Go back and love him more, not be afraid to show him.
Not take laying my head next to hers for granted,
appreciate how she always held me like I asked her to.
Now I'm the big, strong one-even though I don't feel that way-
and I placed her in my arms, lightly scratching her scalp.
My lips became frozen on her forehead and I didn't want to let go,
didn't want to stop being next to her.
Despising the unkindness of time on multiple levels.
She told me the weeks had been so long with out me.
I longed for just 5 more minutes,
my heart breaking as we said goodbye.
Imaginary Rosaries
For thirteen years, we shared a bed
She put up with all my phases
Bedwetting, teeth grinding,
Kicking, punching, talking, lashing
Sleep walking, cover stealing
The only price I had to pay was
Listening to her whisper her prayers for an hour
First in English, then in Spanish
Praying an imaginary rosary in the air
The first year sleeping with out her...
Without that sound...
Was almost impossible
Thirteen years is a long time.
She put up with all my phases
Bedwetting, teeth grinding,
Kicking, punching, talking, lashing
Sleep walking, cover stealing
The only price I had to pay was
Listening to her whisper her prayers for an hour
First in English, then in Spanish
Praying an imaginary rosary in the air
The first year sleeping with out her...
Without that sound...
Was almost impossible
Thirteen years is a long time.
45s
I miss the sound
of my grandmother's blue pumps
clicking over to the record player
& placing the needle over
Herb Albert's Tijuana Brass
She'd stand there a second-as that crisp sound broke silence
hand on her hip
eyes peering out windows through buggy brown glasses,
before kicking off her heels
and dancing over to the stove
shaking and gyrating and smiling
as she cooked us re-fried beans, and flour tortillas
carne asada
the house smelled like gardenia she picked from her garden
I wish my grandmother could still walk.
of my grandmother's blue pumps
clicking over to the record player
& placing the needle over
Herb Albert's Tijuana Brass
She'd stand there a second-as that crisp sound broke silence
hand on her hip
eyes peering out windows through buggy brown glasses,
before kicking off her heels
and dancing over to the stove
shaking and gyrating and smiling
as she cooked us re-fried beans, and flour tortillas
carne asada
the house smelled like gardenia she picked from her garden
I wish my grandmother could still walk.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)