is it cute if i twirl my hair on my fingers
and talk at you with a sass in my lip
and tell you i think you're intimidating when you're the boss?
tell me how it's cute how i puff my cigarettes
and kick my feet in the rocks
and maybe
when you get tired of telling me
you can show me how cute i am
and how cute you can be
with eyes closed
and bums spanked

crooked teeth but pretty lips biting into a sweet slice of cheesecake
that sounds good
i will do that
when takers become givers
and old men stop snoring and
bus 39 stops being late
old ladies with young problems like to crochet
and sad men do comedy
faces in the sheets and ceilings and clouds and even
in    between
my legs
get lost in the abyss of strange
in my delicate brain
and ashed-on layers

i swear i could take a bite out of you

one day
my daydreaming helpmate
skipped hopped and jumped -
and made his way
all through the realms of my brain-what-have-yous
and most inevitably my ditzy-doos-  
sprinkling pockets of lust along my floor
and making me follow behind him with a broom.

maybe when you wake up
after chasing the thunder and
stomping every sugar cake along the way-
you're mushy brain will level out
and your appetite will cultivate
and you will feed on me in the night with the sweet subtlety
of a lost lover
and an insatiable hunger

i want to wake up
in the tiny jar of sugar
back in the dusty corner
of a wooden cabinet
at a nice pizza place
i want to be added to a bowl of oats
when someone needs an extra spoonful
i want to taste sweet and just right

i know that all your kisses and your kisses and your kisses
in the rain and in my bed and in your car
pile up and wake me in the mornings
and paint me a curious picture
of a salacious dreamland
and a sweet demise

sunlight tickles me in the jungle-wood
and smoking men and nice girls find me with eyes closed
i am quickly hungry and irate for blunts and breakfast

unnamed purrs drip down my throat
where the fangs sleep
slick scotches skip skillfully sharp
and beastie boys know how to kick it live

One day I shall find the man who hop scotches in my dreams
And we will be able to talk for hours about my long toes and crooked smile
And how bad his breath smells in the morning
He’ll ask me questions like which arm I like scratched the most
but at the same time
Our silence will layer the room in shades of green and brown
When he walks away, my shadow will follow him like a playful kitten
He will know just where to lay his hands, like I’m the keys of a piano
And he will play just the song I want to hear
I’ll know when I find him because he’ll ask me to come play hopscotch with him
too

upstairs and down the hall and through the room to grab a broom
sweep up all the spilled guts and butternuts
that dad forgot to bake
a woman walks in
and her heart stains the carpet
the house smells stinky like fish and sweaty taint
"just hire a pool-boy"
rich people don't know class

i suppose, it's a start to admit

that i'm in love with a man who always finishes his joints

and who sends me twirling into the air with his trails of smoke

a man who works me as if i'm the keys of a piano

and plays the softest, most beauitful song

It would be a lie to say the love i hold

is a strong piece of twine,

unbreakable through the bonds of admiration and desire

rather, it's a flimsy envelope

with tatters and tears

and scratched out names

and sometimes,

he ashes on it

You cover me in purple
Your ins and outs, your ups and downs,
Your overs and what-have-yous
The sickle sound of your heart pounding in the morning to
Your fiery rushed breath during the times when
I don’t even know whose leg is whose
Your purple canopy envelopes me when I don’t know where to go
and it tells me to just stay there
it’s vastness chews on me as if I’m a sweet gumdrop and i don’t even care
Purple flashes when you do a little whisper
And when you do a little strumming on your guitar
And when you’re even a little proud of yourself
Drawn into the deep delicious well of your purple,
of your ins and outs,
I fall
and fall
and fall……..

i want you to take an honest juicy bite out of me
and taste me like the dry grass tastes the first drop of rain
take a breath and find your own way around my body
just to show me that you can
put a flower in my hair and then tell me I look prettier without it
but don’t tell me I look pretty at all
and never stop telling me
show yourself at night and howl to me like the moon
and feed on me
not because you need to
but because you like the taste

boys seem to be much riper
and ready to eat
after i've buttered them up a little bit
maybe with a cheap beer
a little nudge on the stomach
a lesson on spell-checking

"take off yours first" he yells

(my bottoms are off before he finishes)

i guess i like the boys the will play games with me
and laugh when i tell a joke or don't tell a joke
and don't mind when i shake my *** all up in the air

he will ask me to see who can get undressed the quickest

and i wade in a lake
already naked

little girl where are you
are you back hiding in the closet
picking beads out of the carpet
and humming
harboring James the bear under your arm?

little girl why won't you answer me
were you hypnotized by the silent spirits
all dancing-singing-playing
and enticed to the back-beyond
where it's too good to leave?

little girl when are you coming back
after the the long winter
and the hard rains
when the nothings have turned into daisies
and the old man stops snoring?

little girl
i only wanted to come with you

i don't like bad things
but i will date the devil
if he spanks and growls

big round ***
to fit a hand
or maybe to eat
              breakfast off of
mom would be
so ashamed to see I
ended a sentence
with a preposition

the mean streets bid me ado as i waddle
waddle waddle
up the twirly stairs to my girlfriends house
down the rickety ones to my boyfriends
Alas! a girl with bop-it stops me mid way
i thought maybe she wanted some of my cigarette
but of course
this twisted  little one had nightmares pouring out her ears
today
on the mean streets
i met satan
and she's a pretty little girl
with a lot to say

jumping puddles in my consciousness
marshmallow ground upside-down and i'm lost in this
brought with this
made for this
wake up with a smile and scrambled eggs because i'm baking ****
i'm baked as ****
looking at her ****
just waiting for a hit
i wanna lick her lips
and close my eyes until i'm bit

i like that deep truth of a person
when they're silently counting on their fingers the boys they've kissed
or when they look at an ant for a while
and follow it across the table

when anyone really really smiles
i am so happy
and they are so beautiful

curtsies and torn *****-hose
i am the the tiny pieces of dust you inhale
how does somebody tear my *****-hose for me
if i have already done it myself?

Leo tolstoy wakes me up
when he tells me about snakes and lizards and flies

somebody new brings me to breakfast
and she buys me pancakes and orange juice and happiness

a young boy joins me in a walk to the co-op
and he holds my hand and teaches me how to be quiet

i am alone for lunch

a creature with three legs but pretty eyes drives me home
and he teaches me about love and empathy and trust

a man in a long coat throws a frisbee with me in the park
the wind on my face is littered with freedom and nice words

an old friend takes me to dinner
and she enlightens me on goodness

a handsome lad falls asleep with me in my bed
and dreams of ours tickle me throughout the night

i am an apple caramel sucker
that only the boys with long fingers
and impatient minds choose

i am a black widow
who sneaks around your house
just to hear what kind of noises you make in the mornings

i am the piece of gum on Adam's shoe
that he tried to scrub off
but couldn't

i am every piece of confetti you forgot to pick up

it is the beautiful subtleties of persons to which i turn when my heart is most troubled and dripping down my organs like wax:

1. the young man with the leather jacket
and big headphones
when he did me a tiny half-smile
and promptly looked at the sidewalk cracks
(eye contact makes me nervous too)

2. "Larry, you **** close to running into a lady, scoot"
(because a little girl in a backpack
matters to a big farmer in overalls)

3. when the lady with the cats and crooked teeth gave me her first strawberry

4. courtesy laughs for Professor John

5. the old lady at the park (every morning at 9:00) who lets her dog
really
stop and smell the flowers

6. the hug from the smelly, long haired boy
whose car i backed up into
"it's no big deal," he said
(and a girl who didn't like being embraced, loved being embraced)

when the world sinks its teeth into my neck
beautiful unnamed faces flash into my mind
and my atmosphere is clean
and i am brimming with gratitude

i purr
purrrrrrr
when you call my name
and put your hands here and there
       (i like it best when you don't ask)
and take handfuls
of your favorite parts
i think my meows
turn you on
and when i shake my behind
you shake your head
little nibbles feed your hunger
but just make me more thirsty
watch out for when i dip my teeth
into your neck  
     my fangs run deep

my tiny lake-pool of subconsciousness
invites me to swim

so i jump in
and i pass all the brutes and one-legged monsters
and politicians with sweaty hands
all the unlocked doors with mysteries behind them
and half-smoked cigarettes from
everybody i ever cared about

it is very nice to smoke a blunt with a boy
(or a man)
who knows all the US presidents
and not to lip the tip
and can spell necessary without having to look it up

but still
i will leave even that
for a nice dip
in the rushing waters
past the filing cabinets of my brain
where the gypsies enter
and the beatniks roam

when life gets mad at me, I kiss him on the cheek
and tell him how beautiful he is when he smiles
I tell him sometimes he needs to count down from 10
because anxiety gets all of us,
he’s nothing special
I read him stories, and recite him Grilfindol and Alphrondage
and  I tell him everything my mom told me
and some of what my dad told me
sometimes he hides
and I have to run after him until my legs are jelly
he never stays mad for long

Alas! a flower blooms
trumble-tods of colors manifest Her mind
sometimes you need to love because you Deserve it
sometimes you need to love because it hurts
She rows a boat in the purple sea of her consciousness
through bits and scary fish and ladies ****
She dives in
in another world, a flower wilts
She is It

the love that plays with me like a kitten
tangles me up in yarn
and presses its wet nose against mine

I've lived too many times
under the deep mahogany smoke of your breath
i've let it wiggle its way into me
in through each which way
my nose and ears and even some through my belly button
every hour of every day
I've danced under sprinkles of your batting eyelashes
inviting you to join
in dresses red and ******* grey and too often ******* off
through the presence of moon after moon
I've rolled and then melted in the blankets you lay
from everything i understand of you
to everything i never will
you wake me and rinse me in the morning
and fold and close me like a special book in the night
i will always swim home to you

sometimes it tickles when you say a word like
"cheesed"
or "shmuck"
and i want to pull you right out of your dirt saturated overalls
and plant a fat one on your cheek
as deep as the roots
of all the goods that you have taught me to plant

it may feel good to get tangled up in his yarn
and eat off of him
like a saucer
but before you know it
he's the ******* dog
with not much to say
and heavy footsteps
walking out your door

now i can only perch on the inside window
and let the seconds run like minutes and the minutes like hours
a pink nose against the glass
and a meow
when all the black dogs pass

a brute
a beast
(a being of fear)
fiend
for a snack
-- and a midday's' beer
first breakfast (second breakfast) (third breakfast) (four)
hide behind curtains
at the knock of your door

feeling good and feeling feelings and kissing boys and daytime dreaming

i am the at the bottom of the bucket
waiting for you to make your way to me
and pick
me
up

the four-day-old stubble really gets to me
especially
when its rubbing against my neck as i fall asleep
i want to melt in it
like butter
turn into buttery soup
buttery alphabet soup
and spell out what i can't spit out

sitting on the floor i think about all the pretty girls
(and prettier boys)
and the mouths that i've tasted

there was my sweet chum
with his sloppy lips
who left me wiping my mouth off for days
and turned my brain into cupcake batter

i had my boyish lady friend
who helped me figure out who i was
with her subtle hands
and her thin lips
with thick emotions
and even thicker passion

there was the boy from down the road
who turned me into an animal
with his claws and fangs and grip on my thighs
those kisses weren't kisses
but i liked them the same

i can't forget the one i loved
with the familiar mouth
of a friend and a playmate
and a lover all in one
i don't want them anymore
but they stay locked up in the corners of my brain

i also had a dancing fellow
who sang and moved and explored
with an always-smile on his face
and whistled when he walked
his kisses tasted like sweet butter
and he would never **** a spider
that's one i won't let go

poetry left me the day you did
wagging your tail
and sniffing your way out the door

but it came back
the day a sweet little kitten
with tastebuds the same as i
peered through my window
and meowed at me
to come out and play

i can't wait to smoke a fat blunt with you
it makes me happy it makes me happy it makes me happy
it gets me loose
shake my caboose and sip on the goose
smoke bits make me shifted and
light lips get me lifted
waking up is beautiful

sometimes
i light a cigarette
and i let it burn like incense
and i hear you exhale
and chuckle (but probably not at something i said)
and i see your shadows dancing with the smoke

and i wonder
why my gravity
doesn't keep you here

sometimes I'm running around in a field I have never seen before
and my body hurts like mashed potatoes
So I sit down
and the ground underneath me crumbles
and I fall down until the everything is orange and
my brain is on backwards
Then I look down at myself
and I have no belly button and no fingertips
and,
in fact, -
I'm in a thousand tiny little pieces on the ground

and I can't even put myself back together

there's a parade full of biggs and goblins and bums
there's a shelf in the corner with gins and rums

there's a bite in the cake, where the sweetness lay
there's a bite in my throat, where the lord fangs prey

there's a fairy who sits and never tells
there's a boy who's been sent to all seven hells

there's big ears and hairy arms and floppy feet
and there's upside-down heads and kisses where the lips meet

now i spit it all out
real words float off my tongue
drenched and heavy with happiness
they fill the room with comfortable thick air
i know it because i feel it
my words dance around
first circling my body
then clacking along the hard white floor
until they reach the stubble on your chin
and nudge you gently, but persistently
like a kitten might
they beg you to play
to breathe
to love

my words have been dancing for so long
they run in circles
and entertain themselves
for the sake of them
and you
but they tire
and my chest aches from their heavy haul

throw me away like a carton of bad eggs
and rip me off like the hanging thread on your sweater
I've melted too many times under the heat of your being
scrape me off the plate like i'm nothing
(except for maybe the really nice bits)
and toss me like yesterdays paper
eat me in the morning
and spit me back out at night
it doesn't matter
because like the girl at the bus stop on Tuesdays
like the man in search of the answers to todays puzzle
I will always be waiting

i learn a lot about myself
through you
i don't like to be a spectacle
but for you
i want to be every word bouncing across the page
each spec of light that makes its way into your big-ones
maybe even
a time or a two
the one who makes your heart race
or eyes water
i lay cocooned
waiting for something
waiting for you to notice me
but
you're lying right beside me

in my dreams
i am an animal with claws and fangs and degree of sorcery and charm comparable to that of the sweetest witch you never knew

the allurement of my radiation enough to butter up even a sad, coarse piece of sandpaper like you
and lead you to my web of delusion
willingly
where i tangle and untangle you
until your bones are soup
and your clothes are off

in my dreams i am a menacing night-creature
and in real life
i am the dishes in the sink

what am I waiting for
what keeps me here
what keeps me addicted to the heavy feeling in my chest
or the tears rolling down my face

it is hope
that is one I have not lost yet
though at times
I wish I had

a company of two
a company with you
is much too much
a worn out sole of a shoe

how tempting it can be
when surrounded by foggy windows and melting hearts
you receive an invitation
to a place
you think
love can live without bounds
and blossom without worry

calamity and chaos and whos and whats
I am a girl who doesn't know what to wish for on her birthday
I am a boy and my dad wants me to throw the baseball harder

when falling asleep isn't enough
i fall deeper
and down a hole
A real hole
It is in my bed

My bed opens up right in the middle,
into black

I swirl down it and i pass
plankton
and sugar and lions
Oh my

I fall right down but i don't land in a room where i am too big
i land right on squishy moss
and there's little tiny's
and little fairies
and they sprinkle dust on me
and put some on my tongue

Next thing i know
I wake up
and everything is my friend

science and cereal make my brain big
words and the moon put me to sleep
when it thunders, my mind and body don't feel so separate
I am something I can't describe
i still don't want the pig that wants to be eaten
i want to eat you and Him and Her
sometimes my brain knows what i am going to do before i know it
but I can find it
I can find myself when
my eyes turn into swirls
and each strand of this pale brown hair becomes a singing serpent
Life Feels Weird

i think somebody is nibbling on my brain
and throwing ******* in my front yard

i think that it's a he
and he is 70 years old
and he forgot his wife's name

my name is Edith
and i think my old man needs help

i can help you find your ghost

the one that opens up the doors to your porch
and lets your cat out
when you swore you locked up

the one that crawls into bed with you
and you can't decide if it's warm or cold

the one that turns up the stove burner
so that your eggs aren't sunny-side up
like you wanted
but so that they are fried

(and you actually like it)

my name is Edith
and his is Eden
isn't that
sweet