Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
1.
We walk
and you say, you say
not everything is burned bridges and closed doors
but I keep charms on my wrists
of faces of heads I've walked away from.
I discover
that I am a sociopath
and I am very proud. Because women very rarely
"lack a sense of moral responsibility"
I like it that way.
You yell at me, you yell at me that people
are not to be treated this way.
But I keep a necklace of broken teeth
each with names written on them
of those
who's heads I've seen roll.
2.
My mother told me
to be polite polite polite.
And then her and my aunt went into the kitchen
and tore my grandfather apart. Sending him to Tuscon and Anchorage and threw out the grizzle.
I come from a long line of reformists.
"O to repent and be saved!"
Change others but do not see do not see yourself.
3.
You leave me.
You leave me and you write, you write that-
I can not, I can not be handled this way,
but I have changed.
And I lick my fingers.
And I throw you out I throw you out.
(old)
We walk
and you say, you say
not everything is burned bridges and closed doors
but I keep charms on my wrists
of faces of heads I've walked away from.
I discover
that I am a sociopath
and I am very proud. Because women very rarely
"lack a sense of moral responsibility"
I like it that way.
You yell at me, you yell at me that people
are not to be treated this way.
But I keep a necklace of broken teeth
each with names written on them
of those
who's heads I've seen roll.
2.
My mother told me
to be polite polite polite.
And then her and my aunt went into the kitchen
and tore my grandfather apart. Sending him to Tuscon and Anchorage and threw out the grizzle.
I come from a long line of reformists.
"O to repent and be saved!"
Change others but do not see do not see yourself.
3.
You leave me.
You leave me and you write, you write that-
I can not, I can not be handled this way,
but I have changed.
And I lick my fingers.
And I throw you out I throw you out.
(old)
Some people turn themselves around. Wrap up they're gangrene parts, throw them away and grow new limbs, twisting and turning but eventually standing on new legs.
I told a girl I lost my ears. I haven't been able to hear love words in months. All I here is chatter chatter chatter and the sounds of cars backfiring.
She tells me she has leprosy. She doesn't mind the exclusion, Outcasts see things a little differently, she says. But she misses her fingers. She told me she once did great things with them. Stroke hair and count her baby's toes and write grocery lists.
I meet a boy and tell him of what I've lost. He says he's gained a new set of eyes. He's been seeing his girlfriend everywhere, but she's been dead for three years. We sleep together and in the rush to get away I leave my vocal chords.
He hears a voice when he wakes up and no one's there. He finds it under his bed and picks it up and puts it in his jacket pocket.
I start buying medical books. I buy them from a girl who falls in love every thirty minutes because she has memory loss. I meet a man who is color blind because his wife took it during the divorce. She now sees in technicolor and finds love something boring.
Some people recover, walk out of things with new hands and new lips to find new mouths and freshly mended hands.
I decide that I am nothing but wear and tear.
I let my limbs fall off
and leave them where they lay.
(old)
I told a girl I lost my ears. I haven't been able to hear love words in months. All I here is chatter chatter chatter and the sounds of cars backfiring.
She tells me she has leprosy. She doesn't mind the exclusion, Outcasts see things a little differently, she says. But she misses her fingers. She told me she once did great things with them. Stroke hair and count her baby's toes and write grocery lists.
I meet a boy and tell him of what I've lost. He says he's gained a new set of eyes. He's been seeing his girlfriend everywhere, but she's been dead for three years. We sleep together and in the rush to get away I leave my vocal chords.
He hears a voice when he wakes up and no one's there. He finds it under his bed and picks it up and puts it in his jacket pocket.
I start buying medical books. I buy them from a girl who falls in love every thirty minutes because she has memory loss. I meet a man who is color blind because his wife took it during the divorce. She now sees in technicolor and finds love something boring.
Some people recover, walk out of things with new hands and new lips to find new mouths and freshly mended hands.
I decide that I am nothing but wear and tear.
I let my limbs fall off
and leave them where they lay.
(old)
In Quadrants
1.
I dreamt I got into a car accident. I felt the pressure on my lungs as my chest hit the steering wheel. Some things find their way on to the dashboard and I think of open-heart surgery and oxygen tanks. I rolled metal around in my mouth with my tongue,moving it from one side to the other before I spit it out.
2.
I woke up and heard tires squeal. Downstairs a woman stood in a floral nightgown, frenzied daisies spitting roses punching violets, and she told me that her daughter had broken into her apartment and took her jewelry, took it for the man she loved and the drug in his pocket. What can you do, she said, love is in the heart the brain the needle and the veins.
3.
When I nailed the note to your door I hope you realized everything I meant to say. I wanted you to know that I have wished for the same thing on candles and dandelions since I was eight, I wanted you to know that when you asked me why I do these things, I wanted to hit you. Your voice reverberates in me like a thousand bees flying through my ear canal and I want you to know that I hate the word fucking. I hate. If you haven't noticed by now I am a hopeless romantic. And so I hammer eight times the nail to your door. because I have eight reasons to love you and I have eight reasons to shut you out.
4.
And maybe I deserve love more then you. Grab your shotgun. Take it. Think about how much power you have. point it at me. If I see blood at my feet I'll just remember all the times I found love in something else. I told my secrets to empty porches and cigarettes. I stole my mothers jewelry, thought I was in love then but turns out substance is a powerful thing. Kept taking and taking and taking I found love in walks and I kissed the wind thinking maybe they were your eyelashes.Take your shotgun. point it at me.
And maybe I deserve love more than you.
(old)
1.
I dreamt I got into a car accident. I felt the pressure on my lungs as my chest hit the steering wheel. Some things find their way on to the dashboard and I think of open-heart surgery and oxygen tanks. I rolled metal around in my mouth with my tongue,moving it from one side to the other before I spit it out.
2.
I woke up and heard tires squeal. Downstairs a woman stood in a floral nightgown, frenzied daisies spitting roses punching violets, and she told me that her daughter had broken into her apartment and took her jewelry, took it for the man she loved and the drug in his pocket. What can you do, she said, love is in the heart the brain the needle and the veins.
3.
When I nailed the note to your door I hope you realized everything I meant to say. I wanted you to know that I have wished for the same thing on candles and dandelions since I was eight, I wanted you to know that when you asked me why I do these things, I wanted to hit you. Your voice reverberates in me like a thousand bees flying through my ear canal and I want you to know that I hate the word fucking. I hate. If you haven't noticed by now I am a hopeless romantic. And so I hammer eight times the nail to your door. because I have eight reasons to love you and I have eight reasons to shut you out.
4.
And maybe I deserve love more then you. Grab your shotgun. Take it. Think about how much power you have. point it at me. If I see blood at my feet I'll just remember all the times I found love in something else. I told my secrets to empty porches and cigarettes. I stole my mothers jewelry, thought I was in love then but turns out substance is a powerful thing. Kept taking and taking and taking I found love in walks and I kissed the wind thinking maybe they were your eyelashes.Take your shotgun. point it at me.
And maybe I deserve love more than you.
(old)
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