Sunday, September 5, 2010

Make Over

The quiver in my voice
Was reason enough
To cross county lines
And talk me out of tears
Back into movies.

Their warpaint
Hid the fresh bruise
For the camera.
I was happy long enough
To forgive him.

My bedroom floor
Was littered with curiosities,
Photos, rosaries, tarot cards.
Conversation traveled

My conjoined twins,
Sick from too much candy,
Resuscitated my laugh.
But their Fleur Du Mals reference
Ripped open his reckless words.

Too cold to smoke,
We covered my bed
In colored powders.
It was early morning
Before I was alone again.

Corn Flowers

I parked my car
Next to the abandoned garage,
A local landmark
In the redundant woods

For decades,
This eyesore
Has broken
The endless hypnosis
Of the tree line.

I crossed the street,
Jumped over a ditch,
Landed in the thick,
Threatening weeds,
And steadied myself.

Last year's corn
Left a legacy
Of sharp, dry stakes,
Stabbing through the
Rubber soles of
My flip flops.

I moved carefully
Among the agricultural wreckage
In my pajamas,
And gathered
Over a hundred corn flowers
For you.

Three men on motorcycles
Asked the way to Ashland.
Shielding my eyes from the sun,
All I could offer them
Was that it was far.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

The Metronome

He grabs the keys out of the ignition.
There's the soft sound of my t-shirt tearing
As He drags me across the seat.
He is a conquistador brutally claiming
Native lands.
My bare flesh is pressed against
The still-hot hood of my own car.
My precious ponytail, crowning glory
Is wrapped around his savage fist.
My mouth is covered.
I taste blood as he pounds out
His sacrilegious rhythm.
He's burning my sacred texts
Looting my temples.
After a thousand years
He pushes me away
The gravel on my bare palms
Is an angel song.
He is a meteor, burned out.
I am his crater
His legacy.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Time Capsule

1. '96 poetry reading VHS
2. Spoons text
3. The gay mime
4. The rabbit costume
5. Elvis wedding fantasies
6. The fabric store
7. Making Rocky costumes
8. Thrift store shopping
9. Tuxedos
10. Rocky rehearsing
11. Chanting at the SGI center
12. Haircut
13. Celebrating art show news
14. Ice skating
15. 20 daffodils
16. 100 cornflowers
17. Moving dirt
18. My 1st new years kiss
19. Birthday cake
20. Prayer Beads
21. Roller skating
22. Holding your hand at the funeral
23. High school reunion
24. Dancing at Tina's wedding
25. Catching the bouquet
26. The poem on my leg
27. Pissing tranny
28. The stop sign
29. 3 hour limit on the flood wall
30. Byrd park
31. Comedy routines
32. Drawing liquor labels
33. Editing poems
34. It's always sunny in Philadelphia
35. The belt
36. Washing rocks
37. Planning a business
38. Your heels
39. My heels
40. The dirty french book
41. Your birthday at Rocky
42. The pocket watch
43. Making you a valentine
44. 20 questions on the road
45. Gardening
46. Hypnosis
47. Stripping wormwood
48. Snores
49. Sneaking up the stairs
50. Hiding my car
51. Naps
52. Art after hours
53. The violinist in Carytown
54. Chopping vegetables
55. Lady butthead
56. Poems with my name in them
57. Absinthe
58. "Just listen to the words in the song."
59. Knitting your scarf
60. Karaoke - The Carpenters
61. Karaoke - spoken word Cream
62. Snowed in
63. Licking the mic
64. Pregnancy tests
65. Home made ice cream
66. Bird watching
67. Cat Stevens in the greenhouse
68. Spinning tires in Peggy's yard
69. Bad science in Sherlock Holmes
70. Malice Mizer
71. Spoons
72. Wigs
73. Holding hands at the movies
74. Faerie con jokes
75. Chocolate mousse
76. Goodwill dressing room
77. The obnoxious floral cardigan
78. Hosing you down after you crawled under the house
79. Grocery shopping with the gay mime
80. Orchids
81. Grammar debates
82. Gluten allergies
83. Wikipedia
84. Fake facebook fight
85. Being ticklish
86. Watching movies on the love seat
87. Pushing my car out of the ditch
88. The flying fish
89. Smooth lines
90. The definition of intimacy
91. Comfortable silences
92. Ten things to say in a vacuum
93. Dune
94. Tea flavored vodka
95. Bowling shoes
96. Dim sum with your mom for your birthday
97. Dirty taps and exile smoking at Wonderland
98. Halloween shopping
99. The red panties
100. Eye contact

Thursday, April 8, 2010

The 12 Steps for Drama-holics

1. Admitting that life has become unmanageable due to outrageous levels of drama.
(Drama, in this context, includes but is not limited to: over-analyzing, taking things personally, taking things out of context, holding grudges, manipulation, dishonesty, gossip, being easily offended, taking things and people for granted, bad manners, cattiness, secrets, etc.)

2. Believing that a higher power can restore sanity.
(No, neither Fox News nor Wikipedia count.)

3. Deciding to surrender to the above mentioned higher power.
(This must be an unconditional surrender. Once you start making demands or negotiating, you're likely to be taken as a prisoner of war, and that's just unnecessary drama.)

4.Taking a humiliatingly thorough moral inventory.
(Leave no stone unturned, no photo airbrushed. Every tiny act of social theatrics must be accounted for.)

5. Show and tell.
(Having alcohol handy might make sharing an embarrassing litany of misbehavior more tolerable. You won't find that suggestion in many 12 step programs.)

6. Preparing ourselves to trust that higher power to remove these character flaws.
(Trust is tricky. Don't think that a good night's sleep, a balanced breakfast, and some stretching will cut it.)

7. Actually asking for these flaws to be removed.
(Be humble about it. Making a big to-do about it is what got you into this mess.)

8. Making a list of people harmed, and preparing to eat crow.
(There's a fantastic recipe in The Joy of Cooking.)

9. Making amends where possible, without causing any new problems.
(A lot more crying and yelling seems a bit counterproductive at this point, maybe even ironic.)

10. Continual maintenance of the moral inventory, patching things up as they happen.
(Progress is exhausting. I recommend another drink here.)

11. Developing spirituality, learning to trust in the higher power.
(If it can create a universe [or be a universe, however you look at it], it knows more about life choices than you do.)

12. Based on these new practices and beliefs, trying to help other people cope with drama and generally making better decisions.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Sea Sighed

I am baptized by the ocean breeze.
I step into the cold shock,
The gray limitless,
My bare feet already numb.
God has been translated.

The sky is vacant, colorless,
One sad bird rips the white noise.
As the sea tugs listlessly
Against my pale ankles,
The wind kicks up garbage
Across the whisper soft sand.

The khaki sky,
Lazy, gunmetal water,
And thoughtless litter
Spare my swollen eyes
Another love song.

The tourists are gone,
Taking their spastic laughter,
Color and fanfare.
The streets, deserted,
Echo, cold and hollow.

Monday, March 1, 2010

The Space Between Chrises

The finish line moves with the moon,
Changing me upon every waking.
Previous days' goals archived
As new projects incubate and fade.

I open my eyes on Monday
With a driving urge to see the ocean,
Sunday's intentions of the DMV and haircuts

Mercurial heroes of my youth
Sent me in polarized directions
With enough force to draw and quarter me.

Simultaneously inspired to
Save the world dressed like Audrey Hepburn,
Crash into counterculture,
Regardless of consequence,
And disappear into the suburbs,
Knitting, book clubs, and magazines.

I aspired to be an astronaut,
A librarian,
An activist,
A stuntman,
An artist,
A beach bum.

Two moments exist;
This one and Remember When.
I can't decide
Which is the shadow and which the light.

"Objects in mirror are closer than they appear."
I want to jump back into the fire
Of impulsive art
And coffee house conversations.

Or tread carefully,
With lists and budgets,
Into calm-water adulthood.

The raft,
Meant only to carry me across the stream
And then be left for future travelers
Is now firmly tethered to my back,
Slowing my progress to an indeterminate destination.

Two men stand gaurd at either shore,
Answering to the same name.
One labors in This Moment,
Promising to carry me, raft-heavy, forward.

The other languishes
In suspended animation,
Calling out, "Remember When! Remember When!"
Unfortunately, I do.

My skin absorbs
The raft and the moon and the remembering.
They condense into a tiny center, a panic fist,
Then metastasize into every cell.
I vacillate between ports.