| Ask Again |
Dec 19, 2007 3:56 am
1791 Views | Ask again
twenty years from now
and I'll be smoking
over the same frozen floor
of another holiday:
it's like an ink stain
I'll lean out
and say.
But by then
the neighbors will have changed
their winter lights
and rearranged
their mangers
and the street
will host
a grand-children of deer
who stumble
ever closer to my door.
And through
the muffle
of discarded years
my new cry
will shovel out the block...
"I was meant
for warmer things!"
But this ink stain
is spreading
knees to toes
to frozen garden hose...
and holds me here
like an ice storm.
It's just,
you can't see it
is all
with all this snow. | |
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13 Comments | |
| Ask Again |
Dec 19, 2007 3:31 am
1571 Views | Ask again
twenty years from now
and I'll be smoking
over the same frozen floor
of another holiday:
it's like an ink stain
I'll lean out
and say.
But by then
the neighbors will have changed
their winter lights
and rearranged
their mangers
and the street
will host
a grand-children of deer
who stumble
ever closer to my door.
And through
the muffle
of discarded years
my new cry
will shovel out the block...
"I was meant
for warmer things!"
But this ink stain
is spreading
knees to toes
to frozen garden hose...
and holds me here
like an ice storm.
It's just,
you can't see it
is all
with all this snow. | |
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0 Comments | |
| Need more snow days |
Dec 14, 2007 4:24 am
1949 Views | Can't I just pretend I have a job?
My eyes are stuffy
my face is droopy
my head is full of cement.
Can someone call my boss for me? | |
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16 Comments | |
| hey, I am not a hermit |
Dec 12, 2007 7:33 pm
1429 Views |  | I am out.
Little mouths surround me
with ideas too big for the bar.
I beat myself with the book I am seeing,
can't win...
am cheating with each page I turn.
I decide:
bury me,
preferably with
apple berry crisp
and a wide white cup...
mix me with a bit of wine.
But please do not stand ringside
after this all too sweet demise;
do not talk
in introductions
that float like ashes
all around my poetic disguise.
Leave me where I started
self-cornered
and heartily ignored.
How will you remember me
with no words to put into your head,
no questions I answered,
no thoughts I laid bare...
not even my name to stake
in the midst of all I have read?
But I have heard you
and listened
and in between the lines
I pretend to have said,
(not many granted,
among your too few breaths)
I put you to rest...
not through cold barter with the door,
(no I stay on)
but my mind -
I un-leech it
and the poem unfreezes
and I am back
to my silent meaning...
once more. |
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5 Comments | |
| Squish - he's JUST A FREAK |
Dec 11, 2007 2:43 pm
1653 Views |  | It's 98 to 100 baby
whatcha gonna do?
Go on...
hop on up my shoulders,
just, you know,
remove the udder goo...
You could
poll the friendly populace
or purge a post or two
rampage like your campaign
of a month ago...
(or was that a few?)
Do it!
You can.
Look it's only me,
ever-naming
elephrant
girl without a game
ever-changing
profile pic -
I've stopped
(apparently)
my upward fame.
Just take your meds
and head on up
say hi
to all your friends...
But soon you'll know
when up you pass
it's down I'll go
and with me, babe,
the view
of my sweet ***.
***************** |
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17 Comments | |
| One-quarter there |
Dec 10, 2007 2:36 pm
1375 Views |  | He is one-quarter there,
hair tatted end to end
and grinning.
His voice kicks him
in the shin,
and buckles to the bar,
an ill-timed secret
careening.
I am ear reading
and insensible
in the restaurant air.
Not looking,
my waiting eyes
are sunk
in halfway pages,
and lashed
to the collusion
of my smile. |
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4 Comments | |
| read watched heard |
Dec 9, 2007 5:53 pm
1454 Views |  | She was human.
The most human person I had ever met.
And that was sexy.
-The Hottest State
Happiness is nothing
without someone to share it. -Into the Wild
I know what you mean...
our compass goes awry
when someone with their own strong
inner compass comes on the scene.-NPR's Fresh Air
Forsaken paraphrase-
please forgive. |
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14 Comments | |
| Poison eaters |
Dec 5, 2007 7:21 pm
1726 Views |  | On a scale of 1 to 54,761
how scared are you to lose your job?
(54,761 being not scared at all)
What would you take, put up with,
endure, weather, or submit to
in order not to be fired?
And do you think your fears
about losing your job are realistic?
Raise your hand if you think that
America drives its economy in part
by instilling a fear of materialistic
loss and personal deprivation?
Well. Hell.
American's'll eat, wear, apply,
ex-foliate with, ingest, outgest,
and sell: poisons, toxins, and
#s 1-40. We do this all within the
proud legalistic boundaries of...
of what?...oh yeah.
Of fu*k, I can't speak up - look
who'll lose their job -
that'd be me!
An ulcer? A sociopathic disorder?
Here, take this. It'll, I mean it
may only make your hair fall out
and your liver shut down. Don't worry,
we haven't yet proven generational patterns
of sterility.
Just, um,
check with the company doctor first,
k? |
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29 Comments | |
| shhhh...secrets about me |
Dec 4, 2007 6:17 am
2002 Views |  | 1. I can only write poetry when I'm drinking.
2. I hate re-writing and hardly ever work on anything after I've posted it once.
3. The p key on my computer is broken.
4. The fact that I'm a drunken writer proly has something to do with the fact that I have no idea what I'm writing about.
5. OK...maybe not only, but it sure feels easier (refer back to #1). |
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37 Comments | |
| I have no idea what this means. |
Dec 3, 2007 7:00 pm
1655 Views | Fate will lead me by the hair
judge me four-square
and I've only been alive
for ten months
and 22 days.
Sort it out,
but seriously
I am too lazy to count,
and certainly
I deserve a rest -
I've been writing
(and you thought I didn't care),
taking notes
and parsing out directives:
mix it up, baby,
she'll die a metaphor.
(you'll have to pay me
to interject "American" anymore.)
Really, I only meant to say...
you're lovely,
better than me
but
sorry
can't give you
even a lock,
no matter
how hard you pine -
and it's pure
just as you surmised,
blond
and splayed
and wound by hand -
I'll cut it,
but it's
mine. | |
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16 Comments | |
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