poems I wrote when I was 16

nails

my nails are gone
I bit them off
one by one
one by accident
the others by force
I kept my thumb
nice tip, smooth, white
but they kept coming
into my mouth
so I'd remember
and stop the chomp
but keep them there
and nibble some
until the underbeds were riveted
then I lied myself over
they had to go
I miss them so
They were so pretty
Ladylike on my hand
now, stubs, stranded on dry land

mistake

do it for my sake
eat this rake
this spoon
this cake
this mop
this galvanized plate
oh looks
ripley is here
snap snap
my love
is dead
(acrobats)
forgetting the fuming ambitions of the one I stand on
I wave to my friends
I fall, she falls, we all fall

Mayhem in the pitied malaise
came to me
cried out
everything
gone

So he asked me where it was
and I said "what?"
he said, "the map, you fool, the map"
I pursed my lips and thought
I neatly placed my hands on my lap
then jumped and screamed,
"that way! go there!"
gone, back, now more so
I sighed, the light faded now
"my hands," I said, "my hands-
you see,- "
"The map!"
"My hands," I held them up
He looked away... "my hands,"
I said, "my hands, you see,
they-"
"Shut up!" He snapped and
marched straight off, I sat
and clucked my bitter tongue
tsk, these hands, these worn out hands...
these scars... were they still worth it?
to writing on my pretty hands?

deep blue sea...

... The sea is a decadent abyss,
from where my crustacean friends
find solace in the miseries of the murk
That is where the cruelest formalities of day to day fragilities
are regarded affectionately as the cubbyhole home...

innocence and the way of the world

dandies rollick underfoot
a step, atop the porch I sit
pondering, wander, wonder

soon, soon dusk lets down its heavy blanket
on the sky,
dimly soothing, frantically fading

chubby grubby hands ambling,
the children meandering back
from the dripping living woods

frogs from bogs
upturning spacious housing logs

they look up at me with dark bright eyes,
trusting innocence?

- Across the field the llamas stare right back

high and sweet
melodic voices chipper, crowd
bring me back

smiling, invisibly, a warm wet tear slips out
and blends incognito with the taxing:
sweet sweat, down the furtive brow

a second splits
the horror hits
soon one day soon
their naivety will be shattered, raped, split, slit

eaten up, processed. inevitably
by the churning turning world

Its hungry gut
splendidly huge
awesomely fraudulent

my contributions keep the checks in sway
the delicate balance
eventually. making me
a better wetter lay