Sunday, August 22, 2010
Sundays
Sundays are the lonely days
the days when you most miss her
her cut off shorts, her bare, tan feet
cotton sheet kissed legs
writing up and down her arms
like shivers from a chalkboard
juice stained mouth, an ironic smile
you cooked her eggs for breakfast
a peach from the icebox, stuck sweet around her teeth.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Okay.
So, somehow...
I feel good today.
I'm okay, you're okay,
Everything's...fine.
Like I downed a tin pack of Paxil
with a bucket of eucalyptus green tea and slid...
deep into a cloud of unpretentious cashmere
and expelled every wisp of breath from my lungs.
I feel above you, in my skin,
the gaggles of tan, 6 foot, 88 lb. girls
a stalking army, all in the same $45 lipstick,
strategically ripped tights
and grimaces.
Skyscraper heels, bare toes
Razor, grass blades
fresh and green and sharp
sticks and stones and silicone...
magazine hoes.
The stanza that rhymed, accidentally.
I feel...okay today.
Like floral dresses found in old basements
light shining through stick thighs
like hairless reeds in swamps on a hazy summer afternoon.
Like the earthy smell of mildew and warmth.
Like lemonade condensation
melting, melting away
into concrete and tabletops
high end designer boutique doorways
and nightclub stairwells.
Reality show camera lenses
that easy, languid look
from bedroom eyes...
the wet dew on morning grass.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Our Rosary Bed
You pressed your hand against the glass
and prayed for the Lord to save us.
Forgive me, Sister, for I have sinned
It has been 10 years, 3 months, 6 days, my 11th hour.
Since that time, when I did that thing...you know...
Now, at 24...
Locked behind paint split doors, unwashed hair pushed
from a furrowed forehead.
Please, hang a rosary
Hold it taut against my throat,
Sacrificial angel,
Let me into heaven
Let me breathe cracked relief
Make me pretty and clean
Brush the dirt from each my cheek
Wash blood from each my knee.
Blessed rose petals
In satin pink
Tiny saints in crystal boxes,
stained glass held against each wrist
Six Hail Marys and eight Our Fathers
You're fine, I promised,
At least, I had hoped I could promise.
But the guilt grew tall like lilacs
And the vines took both my ankles
Ivy at my waist
Tightened its grip
Pulled me down
Through the ground, through the earth,
down to where you live now.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Roadmaps
the bruise you left on my right hip is gone now
took two weeks, but it's faded
and i miss it
the blooming flower of yellow, purple, blue
blossoming under my skin
because you put it there
and now youre gone.
the gravel caught inside my feet have vanished
unstuck, pushed out by the city grit
and my no-nonsense summer sandals.
the small crack in my lip has healed
a shifting separation of earth
the tangy taste of metal
all gone
my tongue searches for wounds that
my body has already absorbed
sucked up
into its heart and core.
the sweat has evaporated, leaving me warm, buzzing
just a little
scratches gone, the roadmaps a blank canvas now.
my skirt still ripped, but dejected alone in the cleanest corner
of my bedroom.
i'll wear it the next time i see you.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Eat Me, Drink Me
Eat me, drink me
swallow me down
take me with water, bottles big or small
make me dizzy
Partydresses, Mary Janes
throw me down a hole
smaller and smaller, make me smaller
curls untwirl, unfurl
Socks held high, up my thigh
each sweet, let me eat
gluttony, vanity, and violence down my throat
Technicolor indulgences
and doe-eyed tea parties
of dirt, acid trips, and the perfect Lolita red lip
Eat me, drink me
swallow me down
take me with water, bottles big or small
Make me dizzy.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
eye contact has avoided me since you
hair, hands, bare skin, lips
i stare
over a right shoulder
that flurry aura over a left
fuzzy city streets
elbow patches
faded flannel
old sunglasses
the soft glow of rain on cobblestone
illuminated by street lights
not from lack of trying
my eyelids heavy from wine
and lack of sleep
or emotional encumbrance
no one welcome in my bed
i can't look as deep into
soul searching
life connecting
earth shattering
intimate raw
eyes
not since you
Monday, February 8, 2010
I sat across from her on the L train to Brooklyn. Her hair was dirty and stringy, sticking to her pallid face with a mixture of grease and the tears that streamed down each cheek. She wore thick, black-framed glasses, but not in an ironic fashion. They sat on her nose in a way that made you think she couldn't see at all without them. Her sweater was thick and pea soup green, murky like the water that sloshed under my boots. It was the elephant in the room, the sobbing girl in the subway car.
On either side of her sat a boy, both of who snuck sideways glances at her, with looks of both voyeurism and awe. Who was this girl who couldn't adhere to the code of the subway? One must look impassive, bored and submissive, maybe stoned. Don't cry. The army of the underground. Who was she?
The wet humidity made my joints ache, and I shifted uncomfortably. My lips were glued in a thick straight line and if I could see my eyebrows, they may have been furrowed. Not in worry, but in that bored impassiveness. The armor. I noticed one sock had fallen down around her ankle, like the blanket around the bottom of a Christmas tree, her trunk leg sallow with small dark hairs leading up the trunk. There was no noise, from her eyes, no gasps from tears. Just drop after drop rolling into her collar as she clutched a torn copy of Vogue in her hands.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
She kisses boys in corners
but she never takes them home
The three black walls and she
are enough to heal the burn
her lipstick sticks to t-shirt collars
and then she sends them home.
when she was a little girl
there was a flower that
it always seemed to love
it had yellow lips, a sunkissed tongue
it reminded her where she was
you never woke up today because
you never went to sleep
on rooftops knots and fire escapes are
where your eyelids nestle in
to keep
icicle lights and frosted glass
the tonic bottle
bone dry from class
and your eyes
shut wide on endless tile
and cold against your cheek
keeping you awake
you crush and kiss
the booming bass
lollipop lights
then eyes dart and friends melt
into shadows on the floor
you're alive and dancing
pretty, pretty girl
pretty zombie