I won't depend
On hashtag trends,
On free lending,
Or poems trending,
Or coupons for hookers vending.

I won't depend
On society blending,
Or relations mending
On wending paths of truth.

Then we're sending rockets,
Bending rules  for Rulers,
Tending obsequious flocks of sheep.

I no longer watch
The Tonight Show,
Can't stand his auto *******:
He Loves them all,
They're Fantasatic and Great,
They're all The Best;
And on his A List!
But let's be serious,
They're just entertainers.

His Pros and Cons
Are so predictable,
The Superlatives
Are quite despicable.

I miss Mike and Merv and Phil
(Not Dr. Phil... he's a pill),
And Geraldo and Jerry,
Like Heckle and Jeckle,
Gave us our daytime fill.
Sally and Montel did well,
Like Ricki, **** and Arsenio,
Carson, Dave and Jay Leno.
They surpassed the late night swill
Of Jimmy's mono-drivel.

for Susan O'Neill Roe

What a thrill ----
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of hinge

Of skin,
A flap like a hat,
Dead white.
Then that red plush.

Little pilgrim,
The Indian's axed your scalp.
Your turkey wattle
Carpet rolls

Straight from the heart.
I step on it,
Clutching my bottle
Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is.
Out of a gap
A million soldiers run,
Redcoats, every one.

Whose side are they one?
O my
Homunculus, I am ill.
I have taken a pill to ****

The thin
Papery feeling.
Saboteur,
Kamikaze man ----

The stain on your
Gauze Ku Klux ****
Babushka
Darkens and tarnishes and when
The balled
Pulp of your heart
Confronts its small
Mill of silence

How you jump ----
Trepanned veteran,
***** girl,
Thumb stump.

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

the back
of your neck
brings grace to the bus window.the
pink

clogged pores of bad conditioner not fully
rinsed out
do it


each turn
. each bump in the road
each heaving breath.teeming with

innocent life
radiating with static energy_like my fingers glowing against my jeans.your eyes ride the
node

of its wave as they search there.not wanting god
or
pity
not wasting a drop of
fluid
starving out the other animals in competition.blessing
the passing scenery with threats of
annihilation

1.) Out of the one thousand and ninety-nine days that you were mine, I only regret three of them. The day Brian ***** me on that pool table, the day your dad moved back to Italy and I didn't come over, and the day you put yourself into this hellish suicide coma.
2.) If truth or dare turned two little girls into temporary lesbians, than so be it. Honestly, nothing ever tasted sweeter than you on that night on the bathroom counter at Tim's.
3.) I will grow up to be incredibly cultured all because of you. I learned to look outside the social norm after our late night dates on the roof. Getting high in your lap as you read me poetry, and played me Damien Rice's The Professor & La Fille Danse on repeat was more than enough.
4.) I always thought you were tradition and I was your French Revolution. But now I'm seeing that I was the revolution, and you were the revelation.
5.) You could not sing a single god ****** note. But the only thing I want to hear is your squeaky voice serenading me with our song right now. I promise I won't be annoyed, just finish chorus with me one more  ******* time.
6.) I would have helped you get to your father. I would have helped you. I would have set your mother on fire to avoid this.
7.) I threw up when I got sams phone call about what you had done. And then I screamed at him for an hour.
8.) I won't ask how could you do this to me, because right now I want to do it to you.
9.) Thank you for punching Brian, and I'm sorry you got fired, and I'm sorry your dad left, and I'm sorry your mom hit you, and I'm sorry that I could not kidnap you and bring you to our own private island in the middle of no wear.
10.) You showed me what star you'd become when you died, and told me that if I wished on it you would do your best. I know absolutely nothing about astrology and constellations. But your star is the one thing I find faster than the moon in every night sky.
11.) The last sip of every bottle of ***** I will ever have, will always taste like the last kiss we shared.

Mum and dad look, i have a poem
It is a poem I've written and kept and hidden
It is a poem I'll get mad about if you take a peek
Mum and dad look. I have a poem
I honestly hate to mention you in my poem
I don't want any of you be in any of my poem
Mum and dad look. I have a poem
This poem is not for you, mum and dad
This poem is not about you, mum and dad
Why would you think i would sacrifice a poem for you. Mum and dad?
Why would you think i would keep you safely in the blanket of my fluffy words. Mum and dad?

Mum and dad look. I have a poem
I wrote my first poem at 4 and it wasn't about you so you were sad but you did not want to admit it so you made fun of me, right?
Mum and dad look, i have a poem
Mum and dad look. It is not only one poem
I have hundreds and hundreds poems. Mum and dad
Mum and dad look
Those are what I've written all these years
Those are what I've kept from you all these years
Those are what I've hidden from your eyes and mother tongues
Please
Just misunderstand me. It's enough
My english is irrelevant. Leave it alone
Mum and dad. Look i have a poem
Mum and dad look i have a poem
I have a
Mum and dad will you read my poems?
Mum and dad will you misunderstand them again and again just like what you do to me?

Mum and dad. Look i have
Mum and dad look i have
Mum and dad look i have

a poem

50 tons of
Steel locomotive
Came crashing from the sky
Screaming through hideous
Dark purples
On the knife tip of
A lightning bolt
It stopped me dead in my tracks
The cold steel chilled my toes
I thought "huh...that's so strange."
Then i walked around the wreckage
Headed south
On my way
To see you.

**** caked eyes scraped open
New, tasting fresh breeze of
Some amateur mahayana meditation
I scan the room
There is a painting of a moon with
A clock's face
And a wounded bull of spain
Running through a prairie
Running home
The oil paint bursts in brilliant
Cold blues
I think,
What is this?
What is this?
Then there is a cockroach running
Wildly
Across the linoleum
I smash its head like
Bluebird egg
It's legs are kicking and it
Rotates in a small circle
Around a mess of eyes, mouth,
Antennae
The suffering in this world is
Tremendous
I finish it off
And feel instant disgust
In myself
And all of you.