perhaps it's because i can't draw that i write.
if i can persuade someone to create the image in their own head,
am i still the artist?

*(e.f.)

I’m holding my father’s baby teeth in my hands. They’re pressing into my palms the way I wish your nails could. My mother through walls thin as her body is using the bathroom again. My mother has eyes like the antlers of a buck. When it snows my mother is outside with her fingers encircling a purple plant and the plant is now dead. When it snows my mother’s mouth can be seen disappearing into flesh, her face disappearing because it has no flesh. She is standing on the porch again watching you drive. “I Need My Girl” is a loud song and it is playing softly from your speakers.

The last time I held your hand in a car we drove for two hours like Magellan in circles around the outskirts of the town. The river coursing like the chest of a swan just about to take flight. The river coarse as childhood hair, hair without showering. I hadn’t showered in two days. This town would be better with large fields, more cows, some highway and cliffs. As it was: it felt too much like we were driving somewhere; it always does when you are in a small town. We drank from wine bottles shaped like our father’s heads and sat on straw chairs underneath strung-up white lights. The lights were there all year hanging from a tree that in that muddy heat should have been palm.

What it was: this summer your body reminded me of somebody else’s body all lanky, the one difference was that you were there and he wasn’t and now it is winter and neither of you are here and my body is in bed moored by hives the size of your large pale feet.

don't die
we all need you
you are too good
it doesn't matter to us what you feel
we don't think
about you
nor do we care about it
don't give us despair
you are mad--full of craziness
we don't understand anything
but too good
your actions make us want to have you more
like an addiction
we do take your presence for-granted
we believe we have a right on you
you let us think this
so we do it
we don't see your tears
we don't feel your thoughts
it doesn't matter to us
i told you we are all indifferent
but i assure
we all need you
you bring us good
you do us good
you make us feel good
yet perhaps we are not able to do same
because we can't
if we will
we fear of losing you
who will we have for free?
such a good deal
who leaves!
We don't..so we don't bother
about you
for you
don't expect
are you listening me?
you can't die
you are too good
who will make us feel good
if you die?
don't think we will cry
our lives will still continue to go on
unlike you
who stops and cry for everyone
don't expect us
we are all indifferent.

All these lemons appear in my life
yellow is always so pleasing to the eye
like sunshine
How many can I juggle before I slip and die
Bitter to the taste
Rinds are a waste
I'll squeeze them all
throw the juice in your face
I hate lemonade