Tans come and go,
so do friends, ex-es, and buses
at least for now this country's somewhat standard, stable, and androgynously embraced
I love you America
You are my mother
You are my father
You are my oscillating mother/father
America, I shout with joy for you when I return
America, thoughts of you keep me from enjoying the other land
America, you're a delicious baby covered in slobber and spit
America, why do I feel obliged to wipe your nose? Here's a wet one.
America you formed me in the womb
Unknowingly, America, you cultivated antiquated change
America, you give people the freedom to feel restless
America, I'm restless. I want a divorce.
July 04, 2011
June 09, 2011
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?
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?
June 01, 2011
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...
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...
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