thunderbirdexpress - Hello Poetry

when the tree bark snags my winter coat and tall light posts flicker coded pleas “come home, come home” a police cruiser surges onto the curb lumbering tires spit loose gravel and leaves “JUST DON’T FREEZE” megaphone boom from a crack in the door, ka-chunk a boy proves he belongs to these bricks with a clever piece of plastic clutched in fingers of leather gloves squeaking tight against the heavy metal door handle, heavy boots tramping snow from the soles my head pinned to the earth by a half-globe of knotted tree branches and scarred trunk (KJ + DL, fuckGETpussy, rm 122 4 **** clawing me back for old obscenities i wish my crossed legs under this cold-smoothed picnic table could stop knocking to the beat of the third floor’s 3am rave, knocking to come home ka-chunk, you belong to these bricks.

0

Feb 26, 2014

Feb 26, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC

outside a college dorm, here i am 1/30/14

when the tree bark snags my winter coat and tall light posts flicker coded pleas “come home, come home” a police cruiser surges onto the curb lumbering tires spit loose gravel and leaves “JUST DON’T FREEZE” megaphone boom from a crack in the door, ka-chunk a boy proves he belongs to these bricks with a clever piece of plastic clutched in fingers of leather gloves squeaking tight against the heavy metal door handle, heavy boots tramping snow from the soles my head pinned to the earth by a half-globe of knotted tree branches and scarred trunk (KJ + DL, fuckGETpussy, rm 122 4 **** clawing me back for old obscenities i wish my crossed legs under this cold-smoothed picnic table could stop knocking to the beat of the third floor’s 3am rave, knocking to come home ka-chunk, you belong to these bricks.

23

but with a liquor tongue & sober head drafting and redrafting the words stuttering on my teeth to keep you here falling backwards on my *** will prove nothing but that i’m not content to be anything but in the table of contents not a side character in your favorite book but god i can’t stop tripping over air and chalked-up asphalt am i first? am i the only one? i growl apologies & maybe’s but honest to hell i am filled with vice glittering with ill-intent dented craniums punctured fists bitten up pen caps oh sure, you’re inked up pal but those tattoos for the weak aren’t going to lift any skirts her lipstick ain’t gonna paint your mouth for you “rosebud” hah we walked with ghosts that one time kicking trash, dodging dead squirrels, singing punk rock---betting quarters & Arizona cans to run fast against traffic (this was back when) we wanted to look for truths in picture books and lies in the law chubby fingers & a BIC stick pen tracing imagined cartoon lives our speech planned in bubbles timestop: fastforward snarling, “oh baby she’s a classic / like a little black dress” with opened siamese mouths / rolled out tongue fingerpainting bruises on skin with pixie stick smudged thumbs “she’s a faded moon / but you’ll be faded soon” between muffled dashboard speakers streaming swears came the stillness of carving numbers (each other’s biography pages) safety pins hinging on rawed knuckles forever scarred visual bookmark waiting for words to cause earthquakes and fault lines in lungs what was painted across the wall in looped **** you’ cursive timestop: graffiti i fear the human condition don’t look at me or i’ll shatter a powder touch would ****

0

Feb 26, 2014

Feb 26, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC

VICE (version 2)

but with a liquor tongue & sober head drafting and redrafting the words stuttering on my teeth to keep you here falling backwards on my *** will prove nothing but that i’m not content to be anything but in the table of contents not a side character in your favorite book but god i can’t stop tripping over air and chalked-up asphalt am i first? am i the only one? i growl apologies & maybe’s but honest to hell i am filled with vice glittering with ill-intent dented craniums punctured fists bitten up pen caps oh sure, you’re inked up pal but those tattoos for the weak aren’t going to lift any skirts her lipstick ain’t gonna paint your mouth for you “rosebud” hah we walked with ghosts that one time kicking trash, dodging dead squirrels, singing punk rock---betting quarters & Arizona cans to run fast against traffic (this was back when) we wanted to look for truths in picture books and lies in the law chubby fingers & a BIC stick pen tracing imagined cartoon lives our speech planned in bubbles timestop: fastforward snarling, “oh baby she’s a classic / like a little black dress” with opened siamese mouths / rolled out tongue fingerpainting bruises on skin with pixie stick smudged thumbs “she’s a faded moon / but you’ll be faded soon” between muffled dashboard speakers streaming swears came the stillness of carving numbers (each other’s biography pages) safety pins hinging on rawed knuckles forever scarred visual bookmark waiting for words to cause earthquakes and fault lines in lungs what was painted across the wall in looped **** you’ cursive timestop: graffiti i fear the human condition don’t look at me or i’ll shatter a powder touch would ****

59

We sat blowing shapes in the smoke and twirling insubstantial rings around our fingers like wedding vows I do, I do, until the end of this cigarette Til ash do us part, my flame-ridden bride, my raspybreathed king---still and quiet in the little cruelties stacked between us wooden-faced as Russian dolls growing smaller and meaner in cold smoke curled round shoulders space between shivers contrary wispcat, blueblack cracks in the universe and veins of a wrist black to blue rubber to glue you’ll always keep chasing me away and I, like a rubber band, snap back because I’m sorry I spilled cereal on the floor and crunched it up with bare feet cracked the martini glass into so many pieces it didn’t look like danger but hard raindrops on scuffed tile sorry redwhiteblue America strobes are scary, you’re not in the club it was dark and you wanted to go home---you still want to go home---but without the blue-uniformed stranger or the guy who bruised his fingerprints on your waist sorry for wearing dreams of romance like perfume on pressure points, curling my tongue around pain pills with wishes that can't put out thunderstorms and mend the gaps in a sidewalk sorry (and this was back when i cried for a bandaid, any at all, for surface cuts) we wanted to look for truths in picture books and lies in the law because life is so much better as a cartoon with our speech planned in bubbles sorry that when we were little I thought rivers were small because the blue veins mapping your wrist were water to me then I let you fall into, y’know, that real emotional condition where life was written in rules chubby fingers & a Bic stick pen sorry I didn’t leave a post-it just a crumpled up coat and the smell of smoke when my footsteps burned a river blazing outside and away.

0

Feb 9, 2014

Feb 9, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC

Shapes in the Smoke

We sat blowing shapes in the smoke and twirling insubstantial rings around our fingers like wedding vows I do, I do, until the end of this cigarette Til ash do us part, my flame-ridden bride, my raspybreathed king---still and quiet in the little cruelties stacked between us wooden-faced as Russian dolls growing smaller and meaner in cold smoke curled round shoulders space between shivers contrary wispcat, blueblack cracks in the universe and veins of a wrist black to blue rubber to glue you’ll always keep chasing me away and I, like a rubber band, snap back because I’m sorry I spilled cereal on the floor and crunched it up with bare feet cracked the martini glass into so many pieces it didn’t look like danger but hard raindrops on scuffed tile sorry redwhiteblue America strobes are scary, you’re not in the club it was dark and you wanted to go home---you still want to go home---but without the blue-uniformed stranger or the guy who bruised his fingerprints on your waist sorry for wearing dreams of romance like perfume on pressure points, curling my tongue around pain pills with wishes that can't put out thunderstorms and mend the gaps in a sidewalk sorry (and this was back when i cried for a bandaid, any at all, for surface cuts) we wanted to look for truths in picture books and lies in the law because life is so much better as a cartoon with our speech planned in bubbles sorry that when we were little I thought rivers were small because the blue veins mapping your wrist were water to me then I let you fall into, y’know, that real emotional condition where life was written in rules chubby fingers & a Bic stick pen sorry I didn’t leave a post-it just a crumpled up coat and the smell of smoke when my footsteps burned a river blazing outside and away.

61

ignite the cold, slick lump in my stomach whose body is dread, tell me i’m pretty and then hide my makeup---feed the red-tubed lipstick to the dog---praise my muscled calves. (my you’ve done a lot of walking in your soul today.) do not notice the slight limp or pale puckered lips. do not weep and then claim it was joy, it was fiendishness all along i know it, and so does your cloven foot. i crawl naked to my bunker, fortress of fleece blankets, leave one foot exposed. it cannot split leave me the hell alone. so just leave me all ******* alone.

0

Feb 9, 2014

Feb 9, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC

retrograde

ignite the cold, slick lump in my stomach whose body is dread, tell me i’m pretty and then hide my makeup---feed the red-tubed lipstick to the dog---praise my muscled calves. (my you’ve done a lot of walking in your soul today.) do not notice the slight limp or pale puckered lips. do not weep and then claim it was joy, it was fiendishness all along i know it, and so does your cloven foot. i crawl naked to my bunker, fortress of fleece blankets, leave one foot exposed. it cannot split leave me the hell alone. so just leave me all ******* alone.

13

but with a liquor tongue & sober head drafting and redrafting the words stuttering on my teeth to keep you here falling backwards on my *** will prove nothing but that i’m not content to be anything but in the table of contents not a side character in your favorite book but god i can’t stop tripping over air and chalked-up asphalt am i first? am i the only one? i growl apologies & maybe’s but honest to hell i am filled with vice glittering with ill-intent dented craniums punctured fists bitten up pen caps oh sure, you’re inked up pal but those tattoos for the weak aren’t going to lift any skirts her lipstick ain’t gonna paint your mouth for you “rosebud” hah we walked with ghosts that one time kicking trash, dodging dead squirrels, singing punk rock---betting quarters & Arizona cans to run fast against traffic looking for words to cause earthquakes and fault lines in lungs timestop: graffiti i fear the human condition don’t look at me or i’ll shatter a powder touch would ****

0

Dec 18, 2013

Dec 18, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC

VICE

but with a liquor tongue & sober head drafting and redrafting the words stuttering on my teeth to keep you here falling backwards on my *** will prove nothing but that i’m not content to be anything but in the table of contents not a side character in your favorite book but god i can’t stop tripping over air and chalked-up asphalt am i first? am i the only one? i growl apologies & maybe’s but honest to hell i am filled with vice glittering with ill-intent dented craniums punctured fists bitten up pen caps oh sure, you’re inked up pal but those tattoos for the weak aren’t going to lift any skirts her lipstick ain’t gonna paint your mouth for you “rosebud” hah we walked with ghosts that one time kicking trash, dodging dead squirrels, singing punk rock---betting quarters & Arizona cans to run fast against traffic looking for words to cause earthquakes and fault lines in lungs timestop: graffiti i fear the human condition don’t look at me or i’ll shatter a powder touch would ****

36

let me be prophetic let me romanticize bones, pearls embedded where teeth should be… i am smoke and blood and poison diamond chips for eyes, hard, colourless & cracked facets she is unstained my skin every possible colour every pockmark visible and ugly; every sacrifice carved in lines below my chin ticking down the breaths counting them, holding them lovingly in the hollow of the throat that they may blur together and strike a sickly rainbow that she may find her salvation at the end of mine.

0

Dec 16, 2013

Dec 16, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC

visions of futures past

let me be prophetic let me romanticize bones, pearls embedded where teeth should be… i am smoke and blood and poison diamond chips for eyes, hard, colourless & cracked facets she is unstained my skin every possible colour every pockmark visible and ugly; every sacrifice carved in lines below my chin ticking down the breaths counting them, holding them lovingly in the hollow of the throat that they may blur together and strike a sickly rainbow that she may find her salvation at the end of mine.

15

i sit cross-legged in the grass highlighting quotes in my book a girl she sits down next to me flips a cigarette from her pack flicks the lighter once; burns her thumb hisses softly her hair is the ***** sun one, two, three she smokes determined mechanics of an assembly line i choke on the smoke, i choke on her concentration the pages of my book are yellow with her smoke yellowed as her hair i breathe, breathe the cloud sweetly now draw fluorescent puffs highlight the smoke that stains pages i am focused on my task, she on hers we sit together and breathe our cloud small suns wrapped in a halo of smog.

0

Dec 16, 2013

Dec 16, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC

yellow smoke

i sit cross-legged in the grass highlighting quotes in my book a girl she sits down next to me flips a cigarette from her pack flicks the lighter once; burns her thumb hisses softly her hair is the ***** sun one, two, three she smokes determined mechanics of an assembly line i choke on the smoke, i choke on her concentration the pages of my book are yellow with her smoke yellowed as her hair i breathe, breathe the cloud sweetly now draw fluorescent puffs highlight the smoke that stains pages i am focused on my task, she on hers we sit together and breathe our cloud small suns wrapped in a halo of smog.

21

you know? sometimes you think i am the only one writing the whisperings of the world to eager pages they strain their lined ears. but the lines fall flat hang limp as clotheslines wait for the next dull batch of words to droop on the line. hanging the writer out to dry has a completely new side to it. you are not the first to shiver during a goodbye kiss taste nostalgia in an ice cream cone marvel at a shattered beer bottle on the blue-black asphalt. and you’re not the first to believe you might be the only one. but you know? you know? you are the only one who makes me shiver i remember to eat between spoonfuls of you admired your aim and laughed when you missed the trash can. i’ll pick up the words when wind blows them off the line. i’ll pick you up my ears are eager.

0

Dec 16, 2013

Dec 16, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC

first, the only one

you know? sometimes you think i am the only one writing the whisperings of the world to eager pages they strain their lined ears. but the lines fall flat hang limp as clotheslines wait for the next dull batch of words to droop on the line. hanging the writer out to dry has a completely new side to it. you are not the first to shiver during a goodbye kiss taste nostalgia in an ice cream cone marvel at a shattered beer bottle on the blue-black asphalt. and you’re not the first to believe you might be the only one. but you know? you know? you are the only one who makes me shiver i remember to eat between spoonfuls of you admired your aim and laughed when you missed the trash can. i’ll pick up the words when wind blows them off the line. i’ll pick you up my ears are eager.

22

you are not in your room i throw up the things i want to say all over your bed they are messy and violent will you sleep tonight? i have not slept since that time under the monkeybars at the old playground your mouth held the taste of old love when i wanted something that was entirely mine i was selfish and a child i did not understand how she ate chunks of your heart and left only poison my stomach cannot digest leftovers not yet.

0

Dec 16, 2013

Dec 16, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC

lovesick

you are not in your room i throw up the things i want to say all over your bed they are messy and violent will you sleep tonight? i have not slept since that time under the monkeybars at the old playground your mouth held the taste of old love when i wanted something that was entirely mine i was selfish and a child i did not understand how she ate chunks of your heart and left only poison my stomach cannot digest leftovers not yet.

15

i burn in fires but flames do not scorch my bones. i walk over the ashes---quietly, invisibly. i am not the type people would look at and say, juvenile delinquent. that’s a bad, tough girl. there’s a girl with grit in her mouth and a tongue coated in ash. they see quiet and good; i wear glasses. it is two-thirty the darkness outside makes me itch. earth blisters under bare feet face wholesome and clean no char marks on my cheeks lungs burned to the third degree and i cannot stop. do you not see the pyre i’ve lit? go away before i brand you too. kick down the doors on your way out; they're crumbling anyhow.

0

Dec 16, 2013

Dec 16, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC

i burn in fires

i burn in fires but flames do not scorch my bones. i walk over the ashes---quietly, invisibly. i am not the type people would look at and say, juvenile delinquent. that’s a bad, tough girl. there’s a girl with grit in her mouth and a tongue coated in ash. they see quiet and good; i wear glasses. it is two-thirty the darkness outside makes me itch. earth blisters under bare feet face wholesome and clean no char marks on my cheeks lungs burned to the third degree and i cannot stop. do you not see the pyre i’ve lit? go away before i brand you too. kick down the doors on your way out; they're crumbling anyhow.

17