poetry and prose
I must be unattractive,
polka dot and terribly unslim,
thick lens glasses, gap-tooth smile
to just reject me on a whim
“It’s not you. I just don’t like your style.”
I must be unattractive
Long bulby toes, stringy hair.
I’m sorry I’m not pretty
I have nothing nice to wear.
Boy Nexdore’s never awake
And she can’t sleep alone
Nothing soft, nothing sweet
Boy left only bone
And he’s just like Daddy was
Small mouth, big jaws
God, he loved you so much
And then he destroyed you,
Ripped you to pieces, ribs from hips
You never question, don’t question,
You never question, purse your lips.
God, he threw you to the dogs
Your naked body amongst the rosebud
Crunching, slurping, tasting, gulping
He gathered up the remaining blood
And painted pretty pictures with it
Everybody knows Jenny.
She's the cutie-pie,
the black-haired brown-eyed lush
with fans for lashes.
A few bats and you're hers.
You won't find mascara and blush on her make-up table;
after all, there's no room with all the screwdrivers.
lemon she, she was broken down
And the soldiers on leave stopped coming around,
lemon she, she was a dead device
not a martini nor nail polish would suffice.
lemon she, blood, bruises, and cellulite
but she wasn’t going down without a fight.
lemon she, she was alone and bitter
and nursing broken bones left by the last to hit her.
Bruises are decor
the perks of being a whore
the beauty in being sore
laying mangled on the floor
She's a child of this war
y baby's not a bore.
Flesh, beating heart, vacant stare
Flesh, scarred flesh, tear, rip, tear
Slipping, slipping but not looking down
Because I know you’re not there
Metal, shiny metal, sharp and sweet
Sweet, sorry you, didn’t want to compete
And I, regrettably regret
Delete delete, delete
Your adoration is satisfactory
and it all comes right back to me
Your skin, the sweat, your pores
Your sparkling eyes, your curled toes
Yours
Your infatuation is satisfactory
and you come right back to me
Can’t-believe-I’m-wanting-more
Love, lust, attached to mine
Adore
stuck in transit –
yellow, grey, and blue.
Life with you and love in you –
something big brand new.
Steps and prints on paper –
tatters of my heart.
Satellites and murky water –
Tearing us apart.
Wallpaper like grass swallowing the spider
to see a sonic boom each time I lied to her
I don’t have to go home but home’s always brighter
& she’ll never disappear. she’s a lovely fighter
It’s hard to avoid implosion at just the sight of her.
Read MoreI always say I like it when you smile.
I like your smile.
Your laugh, I like that it gives me goose bumps.
And you laugh.
Sad songs remind me of you
And I smile.
Words like dark and nothing and pretend.
Like black, loss, death, and the end.
And it’s been raining so hard lately.
I fear you’ll be taken away by a river of
dirty water, concrete, grass and dirt.
Tossing, tumbling with bodies different
from your own touching and bumping,
rotating and swirling and you’ll all utter
niceties: “I’m sorry, oh, excuse me…”
Cars and bicycles, and stuff leftover from
the yard sale next door.
And I’ll absorb all the moisture regurgitated
by the plant-life in the front yard.
Like a sponge.
So blowing bubbles
in your overspill,
your liquid remains,
your blood, your organs, your bones –
morbid indeed but something good
from something bad and
today and tomorrow bumblebees afloat –
transforming red to black and yellow,
my poetry’s incoherent, inaudible,
and an abundance of technical jibberish
Sara’s messy –
in paisley pink boiling blisters.
Tomorrow’s her birthday
and so is her sister’s.
But Jane won’t be there –
because Jane was killed.
But Sara doesn’t mind,
In fact, she’s quite thrilled.
Banter more –
your voice burns through skin,
through thin membrane,
through nail and sweat –
so sweet like honey running
down my throat and you’ve
only just begun.
Vulnerabilities magnified
and analyzed like systematic
steps with no conclusion but
I’m still madly in love with you.
Young with weight & dumping
dirt in soapboxes
Paris doesn’t know you
like the king in plays glancing your way.
Though you know only one
no translation’s needed and
your overused, frail, bruising body
knows manipulation like
kids on swings singing Simple Man
before narcolepsy takes them away.
Mouth; 2 feet tall, 2 feet deep bowl
But just a bit too small to swallow your soul.
2 minutes short on time to console
Mouth; 2 feet tall, 2 feet deep bowl
when you snuck in the film noir
when you lightly touched my skin
like a peignoir
mama said you’d leave a scar
but you were just a polestar, my lodestar
& me a motionless presence in your sidecar.
It could be louder,
Circumspect but calm –
for the boys over there
& something small for you
Take your shoes off,
unwind some more
edgy’s never pretty. They can’t have that,
hanging on the railing –
walking barefoot
something to calm you down
No one knew the brand new you.
No one knew you’d changed.
No one saw you in the spotlight –
Trembling on the mainstage.
No one knew your unique design.
No one knew your will.
No one knew you grew a spine.
No one knew you still.
can’t really exhaust but
something never heeds.
and he’s almost gone again –
no one would notice.
I’m going to the carnival
