Sunday, April 25, 2010

v: delilah

it's all talk.

you're his girl and he has you
because he's your man and you love him
and as the affection scrapes against the wall 
(so sweetly o sweetly would you touch me?)
your legs bear the imprint of his hard kisses 
when you sit down on the dirty linoleum floor
you are so full of joy

laughing away the spirals that burst in your mind
that find you sprawled at the bottom of the stairs
that come tumbling down like a rainbow-
the forest greens and deep lilac purples
the crimsons, the midnight blues
all the vibrant colours 
that sprinkle down when you twirl around in your pale white dress
you are so full of life 

grazing your mottled skin 
holding you like shadows, his fingers 
leave purple marks (but gently so gently)
without the stroke of his hand against your cheek
you can't function one day

so full of love

*title

Monday, April 19, 2010

iv: the times they are a-changin'

boom.
said god

but the world still went on

what the hell
i said BOOM.


but everyone still kept doing their own thing

and that's when he realized

that life didn't depend on him anymore
and that the generations of those who had believed in him
had left seeds
of those who were too selfish to give up their piece of the sun &
their little piece of grass & their own sense of beauty
of those who did not have faith in him

but in themselves.

* title

Sunday, April 18, 2010

iii: a hard rains a-gonna fall

it's still cold in alaska
i remark leaning against your
1992 honda civic
as the wind whips around your brittle fingers
and your wiry blond hair as you try to
get the car started again

shut up
we'll get there if it kills me
i can't not go to my grandfather's funeral
i owe it to him 
just like i owe the fact that i'm here
to the fact that i told you about three years ago
i'd do anything for you
(but the fine print specified going to alaska in the dead
of winter in a stone age car on a wild goose chase
to a rotting corpse was definitely an exception)

you finally get the engine running
sputtering shooting out rasps of warning
and you curse at the hood and say
get in we have to get there before she dies
12 miles away from the cemetery &
50 miles away from the nearest gas station &
70 miles away from any living person
bessie collapsed on the ice not with a whisper
but with a bellow

so i guess it's a good thing we remembered our mittens

* title

Saturday, April 17, 2010

ii: there's no use in wondering

shut me up.

this would be where you come in with consoling
words that flow out like snakes ribbons or streams or rivers
or something flowy
this would be where you tell me how blue my eyes are
blue like the azure sky and the deep beautiful sea
(my eyes are brown)
this would be where you tell me that i'm your
sweetie honeypookums cream pie
(it's funny how you only tell me that after the searing pale sun
burns through the mottled flesh
and i'm exposed)
this would be where you fall down on your knees
and apologize not with words but with actions
and moments of revelation
this would be where you


overpower me.

*title

i: just a lil bit of respect

because you and i are living the same way
i become incensed when you walk out
the door banging open/closed as i struggle to put my clothes
on.
you don't have much time to spend
but you're a miser who keeps everything locked up
just in case you'll need it in the future
like the thousands of cake mix boxes your grandmother had stocked
in her cupboard so if the russians came
she could stuff herself until they got her
and then she'd survive on her fat

but the russians never did come
and those cake mix boxes rotted off the shelves
just like all that time you don't spend will stagnate
(but it doesn't work that way)

but why am i complaining so much
you and i both know damn well that if we switched positions
i'd be the one running the marathon
timing my pace to see how fast i could get out the door
without having to talk about it and say
goodbye.

*title