I crept up to the rocking chair
Perched beside my bedroom door,
Pressed my ear up to the wood
Waiting for daddy's snores,

Silence in heaps,
Between discounted sheep,
Blared into the darkness,

Until, an eye-squeezing roar
Shook the entire first floor,
Following my tiptoes across the carpet.

Down the hall and to the left
And quickly up the stairs

(Swiftly, I went
In my flighty ascent -
Should goblins follow,
Me - unawares),

I burst into the attic
Heart naively in panic -
Back evened with the sturdy door,

The attic, at last!
The window ahead,
And beyond it,
I could only imagine.

--

Daddy told me once,
From behind billows of smoke,
That the more I dreamt
The more things awoke,

I dreamt of a dragon
In bed that night,
So, with the stars, up high
Should be a dragon in flight,

I threw open the curtains,
Soul, a wish-filled flagon,
Breath held tight
To behold my...lizard?

--

An itty bitty
Teeny weeny
Green,

(and somewhat, brownish)

Thing,

Crawled across
My window sill
Lacking all his
Dragon things,

His dragon hue,
And dragon size,
Everything
Dragon-wise,

I plopped down to
The floor beneath
The window,
And I took a seat,

I watched that little
Dragonette -
Slowly trying
To just forget,

The dragon I had come to see
Hadn't cared enough to come see me,

Then that lizard did a crazy thing -
Popped up his head -
Showin' a big pink thing!

I wasn't sure what sounds lizards made
So, I moved up close
('cause I wasn't afraid!)

Eye to eye,
I leaned in close,
Then that thing jumped forward
And bit my nose!

...

*I'm pretty sure he liked me.

When I was a child,
I lived around
The corners of houses,
Hiding from your
Crooked nose -
So hooked
It gouged my
Superman courage
Right outta my
Teeny lil' chest.

My legs quaked a little
In my Barbie boots,
If ever I chanced to
Get locked into that
Loony gaze, of yours -

The one that
Stuck, thick on my skin,
Melting me off,
Like that little girl
I saw,
Covered in ****** -

All over -

You know the look -
The one that made me feel bad
For mewing, purring, and
Licking my paws.

Caroline and I
Shared marshmallows
At night,
Faces glowing in
Rainbow light -

Rainbows that peeked from
The filaments that
Twirled slowly,

Too slowly,
Inside Gary's
Glass indigo box,

And shared
Boogeyman dreams
On what types of things
Probably crawled from
Your crow's nest hair.

--

I saw you last week
In your silver convertible,
Fly away's tied down
'neath Oscar de la
Something,

(Or another)

With cherry red lips,
A silk blouse that slipped,
Flirtingly from your
Shimmering, bronzed
Shoulders,

Beauty on your lips,
Beauty in your hair,
Beauty spilled
Right 'cross your face,

Beauty in your poise,
Even in your toys,

Wait -
Beauty?

Had my wide eyes deceived me?

I found an old snapshot
From your date night out -
The night you should've been
Watching me,

And saw,
With my two,
The you that I knew,
'cept, actually,
You looked
Just the same -

Though, your wild hair,
Now tamed -

Plus a wrinkle and
Maybe a gray.

An addict still has sense,
And if he’s wise,
Still, wisdom -

It is his will
That stands in question.

"I wish I wasn't obsessed with words,"
He says.

"Oh, me too!
… except, not really,"
I reply.

"You see, I have kinda, sorta, possibly, maybe,
(Completely and so very utterly)
Developed this odd sort of weird little “thing” for words.

Words, for me, are kinda like that guy that drives you up the walls -
You’re crazy about him.

He’s in every thought that creeps into your mind.

Every move he makes,
You want to pop into your mouth
And roll around for a bit,
Because you know it must taste somethin’ delicious.

But, you can’t **** on it too hard,
Because you want it to melt
So, so very slowly,
As to not disappear too quickly.

He’s that guy that does you somethin’ silly!

Makes you smile so hard
And do things with your body
That make absolutely no sense -

But, only because he makes you feel so good
That you haven’t a danglin' clue
On what to do with yourself.

He’s that guy that makes you,
Every once in awhile,
Lose sight of things important.

That guy that’s not altogether good for you,
But, you simply can not get enough.

--

So, I mean, yeah.
Sometimes, logic says,

If you’d just break up with words,
You could get a whole bunch more of your junk done,
Rather than dwelling on every single thing he does.

But, my heart,
Trusting my logic,
Replies, adamantly, saying,

*Yah - but, I don’t think I can.

Broken lines dangle between
Vital voices at Waterloo.

Slick Rick on one end,
Skips and laughs-
Parading his mangled heart
On his crookedly stolen stick-

Draws circles with it
Around a blinking fire
That has risen,
Around some bush.

Olive sits firmly,
Scissors in hand,
Eyes shut, palms to the skies,
Though,
She skips and laughs sneakily,
Crying out, please, oh Popeye,
Save me!
Having slipped out of the bind,
Rick put her in.

6 Silver bunnies,
With empty pockets,
Sit, twitching
On gold mine expenses,
Looking for those who will come
With precious carrots,
Once word spreads of their
Glinting furs.

I haven't an empty,
Dead-weight thought
For racing cracks
Of yesterday -

Cracks that split
Faster than crooks

Spinning in
Red-paced,
Screaming lights,

--

Times ago,
Are times I know,
Only in now's
That never end,

And times to come
Are simply from
Times, the same as
Now and Then,

So, when I spend
Hours within
The greenest greens,

Glowing near
Bashing violets,

Or dance with
The street,
Feet locked in repeat -
Communion
With dirt red brick,

You'll know why these things,
Tickle my wings,
And why I choose

Now,

As my
Sweetly,

Forever.

Ain't a soul of us, without dark spots.*

Not lacking
In don't's
That have been done,

In rues
Of arson -
Like
Matters

That, simply,
Will not go
Away.

--

Today,
I asked
A sweet birdy -

Just once-

If he would
Sing
'Til my
Dumb heavings
Shut up.

To hear how I
So needed
Him to say
Something beaming -

Something
That would melt ice
That had begun
Its branding -  

Ignorant,
It went on,
Pecking rocks
At my toes.

So, I stapled
My bad day
To its back.

Head hot, in
Black heat,
Quick,
Shufflings of feet,
Sent the birdy
On its
Forced agenda.

Then, I saw
That sweet birdy
Get snatched,
By a beast

Thrice rabid,

On its way
To attempt such a feat.

Dry sickles
Burned my throat -
Some ugly and sad -

With broad cries
That never met
Words.

Though,

The sickles rose far,
Burned that ice
Into scars -

So, I guess,
The bird did away
With my blizzard.