Meh darlin' doth
meh faencie,
in aul hes waeys
quite daencie;
I gav 'im meh
charm an op
theh mountain
of hes arms,
then doon theh
ledder uv hes
romaencin'

I don't have a good heart
I do not mean well and
if I were just a tad more
despicable I'd tell you
to burn in hell
Your doting smile does nothing
but make me wish I had steel toes
and if I were a little bit more bitter
I'd kick you right in the nose
The sound of your dragging
your knees from place to place
like fingers down a chalk board
and I can only imagine your
lovesick face
If I were completely heartless
and your feelings didn't matter
a jot, I'd have your drag yourself
to a graveyard and I'd point out
exactly where you should rot
(Ah, but you think I'm joking?
and this is just a ruse?
how could I be this awful
and this must be one of
my moods)
I will not be better, not later
and certainly not soon
your love leaves me frozen
your protestations a tired tune
I beg to no one special
I make my case to the empty air
if there is a god in this place
then please, I beg, I swear
I will never again in life
beguile any living man
nor none of the uncountable
dead- I make my peace
and good riddance sweets
I've put my heart to
bed

Good morning in the garden
of forgetting, each of our chairs
assembled- Miss Postpartum
always sits on the outer edge
wedged against a tree and
looking up at the leaves
Botched Suicide, well,
there are several of us
we sit together in a loose
ring, Rope and Kicked Over
Step Stool sits at 3 o'clock
and I generally prefer 6
at the bottom of course
and Jumped From a
Window lingers around 9
for the third and hopefully
the last time
Slashed Wrist takes her
place near the top, at the
eleventh hour, as usual
she is as unsure as her
halfhearted cuts
Certainly no one is here
because we want to be
quite the opposite, we just
haven't mastered our exits
and it doesn't matter how
many mornings we find
ourselves here in this
circle of doom- at least
we know our places
all of us expecting to
exit soon

Passivity runs through her
a rat in an empty building
her skeleton
She doesn't move
not one tired knee ****
even with the teeth resting
in her lap, folded in her
folded hands
Her love for him is
a death row inmate
cold cell on a hot
afternoon, waiting
in the chair
And he is all inside her
chewing away at the anatomy
a frayed wire wrapped around
her pulse, thump thump thump
her heart beats in time with
his bored blinking eyes
He stands by her bath holding
a toaster above his head and
she waits for the wire to touch
the water, fork into the flesh
the wolf and the lamb
Tears wet the cords
he says don't call me that
(darling) push push push
it away
She says
but he is all inside her now
he will take some away
but it all grows back
and what was once benign?
like kisses and when she rubbed
against his malignant sighs?
(Any amount of pain but the
aching longing) he kisses her
and touches the bones of her
face, a skull in a field of clover
greedy green and she'll eat
anything
Did ge slap her, did he **** her
in that impossible circle
pushing the beating fingers
into her mouth? (her fingers
She ate herself one morning
after a night of trying to forget
what she could not remember

To cry like this
unending nights
with one tiny light,
one tiny squeak of day
under the mud
it is always this
way
Daylight warms
the top of my skull
as I trace the course
of the sun from one side
of my pond of tears
to the other
Over so quickly
over and done
and in that short glimpse
of daylight, my tears still
run
Deluge, dear
feel my clammy heart
there is no end when
these kind of tears
start

If I could give you every thought
that I left unexpressed and tie them
up in a drawstring bag and if this bag
could only hold the sweet ones,
the good ones, the ones that
made you feel O YES THIS
IS SOMETHING and you
could let go of the rest
well:
Thoughtless would just be
a poor beggar we never had
to feed, living on air and
quite nowhere, not
with you and not with
me and if love were
enough, if love could
make I AM SORRY
get up and stand
on its hind legs and
pick flowers from
the highest tree
we would not have
a problem now
would we? you
would be you and
I would be me
fed on promises
(there is no other world
I want than ours) and
every thought made
less thoughtless
gathered together in
my bag of Please- I would
everyday shower you
with these
If

The debut of us, dear
our red carpet affair
hangs in solid crimson
all up and down the stares
Darling you do understand
I cannot keep you under
wraps? (the wrap party
is happening now,
between the cheeks
of my ***)
And the curtains part
(o boy!) and my legs part
(o joy!) dear Sir we had
total Fuckability (now
didn't we?)
I ever and always
deferred to you
the director of me
(what an awful job
but someone's got
to do it)
And when you said
"CUT!" and cut me
in two? that's okay-
I will make do
And when you said
"CUT!" once again?
That's okay, the half
of me will survive
with the all of you
(wondering how many
times I can be halved
and quartered and still
be there, under the half
the heel of your boot
black shoe)
You, darling
you