The morning I woke up
with grass in my shoes
I came up for coffee
my mother warned me
she said "be careful-"
our women are addicted
And you don't want
to be a girl who
parties every night
she circles the truth
I don't want to be
a rusted empty box car
high-heeled
shot of rumplemintz
lost behind her eyes
but I do want to
be the sort of girl
to wake up with grass
in her shoes
because she was out
all night, walking in
the woods after a volley
ball game at the bar
who loves with her whole
imagination and tries to
illuminate the beauty
all around her, with
the flick of a lighter
who also happens
to drink because
it's veiled poison
and it helps us
understand and forget
and also remember
all the profound pain
the world has caused us
I want to find adventure
on a tuesday night
down a dark path
on a wooden bridge
and to wake up
with all the pieces of
the night resting
in my golden
ballet flats
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
You are like
the smoke left
on my clothes
after a bonfire
summer’s salty sweet
taste still sticky on
warm skin
you-
are the last breath
of autumn sunset
so pink
once orange
slow to disappear
off the horizon
you’re winter’s
chilly breath
all the way to
the center of
my feeble heart
thump thump thump
like the springtime
again and again
pierce me with your sweet
green dagger
dragonfly wings
unnatural beauty
you my
slow season
breath
my wanton
unforgetting
8 month
long lost
lullaby
sweet girl
how I missed you
late summer
solstace
soul sweeper
secret
goodnight
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
I’m proud of all the things I don’t know
This morning I woke up
and opened my third eye
and in the simple act
of receiving
the whole world spread
out in front of me
Like the pages of a book
Like a blueprint unfurling
Like a farm fresh golden egg
Like a biblical parting of the skies
Hyperbole?
Maybe,
but it feels like a spark
ignited
a “good morning”
long lost twin
all eyes open
sweet stranger
memory of me
almost long gone
forgotten
hello again
to the me
that sees with her third eye
who leaves a trail of golden
burning pieces
a single sparkler
just waffling all alone
down a dark driveway
in the hand of some innocent kid
such a small burning ember
and capable of such great joy
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
Once upon a time
we were just broken pieces
under false impression
put together
shards that clashed
crashed against
each other
(and we called that
love)
spilled our our pain
from tarried pages
off empty screens
first we'd drink and smoke
so much so our
serrated edges
couldn't pop the
precious glass palace
I built around our fragile
naked bodies-
around my naked fragile heart
(and called that love)
blanketed oblivion
my swaddled shelter
out of a furl of smoke
our stories coiled
in the cloistered air
of your room
and I'd cry on
behalf of your secret pain
and I
called
that
love.
sometimes,
our rage would swell
out of
a deep
someplace outside us
( ?maybe God Yahweh Jehovah The Universe)
something (w)hole
complete swirl
Surreal
incomprehensible
and we'd lash-
and retract
once I cracked her from
a small shell she'd curled into
like a millipede
she asked
"why do we do this to each other?"
Nothing has ever crushed me
so much as love has crushed me
I am still just a splinter
and so is she
except I am lost
somewhere in a
crack in the floor
and she glitters
this whole world
watches her glitter
from her small spot
on the sidewalk
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
wake to
people walking
home from after hours kegger
cheeks red
holding their heels
swinging handbags
brazen voices pierce through holey
screen to fitful
half sleep state
next to an acrid smelling
guitar player
i
stir
and
put on
my coat
decrepit door
c r e a k s on worn hinges
sneak through filthy kitchen
littered with plastic cups
reeking of stale sweat
poured
tequila
shot
abandoned
along with sliced
lime and salt shaker
companions
marijuana inspired chords
l i n g e r
in the air
take my bottle of Jack from the freezer
dare not drink water
from
the
tap
though head pounds
just put on sun
glasses
taking flim-sy
strides to
fair trade
sit outside in an iron chair
the art on the walls burns my eyes
adj
usting
2 days *****
shirt
the barista brings
a hot soy latte
with cinnamon
sprinkled on top
thanks- i say
she doesn’t respond
smoke a cig found in my
purse
who was smoking 27’s?
give a homeless man a
quarter on the
way back to my
car
he takes it says
god bless you
the strokes play through
cassette player
it’s too loud
before noon
don’t buckle seatbelt
on east wash
capital disappears
from rearview mirror
until road becomes
hwy 151
and it
vanishes behind
a hill
like i was never here
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:25 PM UTC
I often wonder if girls with blonde highlights ever question their individuality
Same as they probably wonder what would possess a female human to shave 3/4 of her head and pierce a hole through the middle of her nose.
It’s not that I think uniqueness is determined by our outward displays of gender and costume choice.
But something about your mall bangs, target brand cardigan, doc martin, cost cutters style tells me you’ve bought into all the corporate ******** the world had to offer.
You opened your eyes out of the womb but the glow of the mcdonalds arc always compromised your vision.
As you flip through your people magazine criticize the body god gave you and so sacrifice your divinity.
Maybe I am the one who is too judgmental but I couldn’t imagine driving around in a minivan without the intense urge to throw myself out.
I couldn’t sell out to a pre-packaged fast-food existence.
A middle-aged hum-drum pass-the-remote
slow death
midwest
art school
dropout misery.
Keep me oddity.
Keep me strange queer girl
and never let me go
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:25 PM UTC
I dropped my iphone twice
on bare cement
an action which broke
its protective glass covering
leaving its robot guts
exposed
and several
spiderweb cracks
across its once
pristine electronic
surface
its busted visage
is met with
the gasps of
strangers
WHAT HAPPENED?
the poor thing
never asked to be
treated so poorly
but it found its way
into clumsy hands
who can’t hang on
to anything
hands belonging
to an owner whose
brain can’t comprehend
her own value
let alone the worth
of such a sophisticated
piece of equipment
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:24 PM UTC
I write her name
in a borrowed book
whisper to the musty pages
"hello"
from the bottom of my lungs
the tippy top of the heart
a vibration
a pulse
just a whisper,
as soft and sweet
as I can
hello
hello-
a silent yellow page
doesn't rustle
I swear the smell
will haunt me forever
I'll never erase that name
and even if she tears out the page
the wind will have to whisper
or howl
goodbye
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:23 PM UTC
We are all but
hanging
from
a
thread
as our lips seal
behind thick black string
flesh made raw by shards
of heavy rope
ensnared by echoes of all
opposing voices
seem to come from
all sides-
but are, rather,
those of the
loudest protesters
out of sheer frustration
that we still find
ways to shine
in our music-
angry, spoken word,
**** RIOT
rant filled
in our art-
graffiti on your capital
desecrating your
male saints
streamed through your
safe airwaves
******* up your
perfect hegemony
livening your
boring missionary
bedrooms
bleeding in your
just-washed white
sheets with my girl
friend and her boyfriend
In our poetry-
CAPITALIZED, misspelled,
profane-fuck-out of syn
tax
without filter
in red paint
on sidewalks
in newspapers
on bookshelves
in magazines
on flyers on
our lips in our
hearts
screaming
crying
laughing
soaring souring
soar-
ing
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
I want a get matching tattoos
with someone
even if 10 years from now
**** even if 5 years from now
I regret it
I want to propose one night
in the corner of a dimly lit bar
that smells of ***** and cheap
cologne with a twist tie
to see your glassy
eyes tear over
as you slur it,
yes
I want to dive 2 weeks in
headfirst, head over heels
neither of us mutting the obligitory
"let's take it slooow"
I'm so tired of that
**** I'm ready to fall
even if it means
cracking my skull
no diving
this is the shallow end
and I'm crawling towards
the deep
girl get on your knees
please crawl with me
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:14 PM UTC