Inwardly I am regal,
like a satin swathed
silent film star
starry eyed
rain on my bed
no more stars
stricken by my
weather
inside
My teeth shall remain
lodged in my formerly
pretty face
It's all done up
in chintz
(myself and my
deathbed)
Set the radio to
Frank Sinatra
Pour a tumbler
of scotch and
swallow the
pills
the only thing
missing is my
coffin

Who knew, then
I would have to
*****, crawl on
my elbows toward
a not so well appointed
toilet?

Not at all ready
for my close-up

O FRUITLESS YAM!
(a soft woman's voice)
"potatoes are usually
grown from other
potatoes..."
YOU, CANNY, in
a jam "...while several
recessed dormant
buds..."
ALL MOUTH AND
NO PLAY
"or eyes on the
surface..."
BORN OF BOREDOM
INVERTED EYES
"on the surface..."
OF HIS DECAY"
"perennials that grow
close to the ground..."
THE ONE THAT CRaWLS
NEVER STRETCHED TO
HER FULL AND FOOLISH
POTENTIAL HEIGHT
"it's called a tuber..."
MAKE THE SHAPE
WITH YOUR UGLY
MOUTH AND NO
END OF ROTTEN
WORDS
"from the end of underground..."
LACKING ENOUGH MIND
TO STAND ON TWO LEGS
"we call these vines..."
THESE ARE THE SPROUTS
WE CALL EYES
"these are the sprouts
we call eyes..."
WHY O WHY DID
YOUR POTATO DIE?
"verticillium wilt..." WILT
SHALL, DID, AND DILT
"these fungi can survive
in the soil..." OF COURSE
SHE OF THE WILTED
EYE, THE FACE AND
THE MOUTH FULL
OF DIRT "but will
eventually die..."
HERE'S TO YOU, THAT
SHALLOW GARDEN, THAT
DEEP MEASURED HURT
AS SOON AS SHE BREAKS
THE SURFACE "wilted
plants will eventually die..."
HERE'S TO YOU, NEXT
SUMMER, NEXT RAY
OF SUN, HERE'S MUD
IN YOUR EYE

My ego wasn't built
for his kind of abuse
banal, pedestrian- more
Ralph Kramden then
anything, couldn't even
finish a sentence except
with a shaking fist ("Well
I oughta...") and how many
evenings we sat together
on the couch as he listed
the ways I failed him and
why he doesn't punch me
in the mouth, how one punch
would **** me for sure ("is why
he don't hit me, at least not
anymore...")

I am but one more in a long line
of reluctant escapees, more ashamed
of my leaving then I am of staying
because the former is so visible
while the latter happens behind
of everyone's eyes (the whole
block has heard all variety of
shrieks and cries, one after
another, hustling from the
door to the car and then in
reverse, sunglasses and a hat
each day a little less of a person
first breakable then broken while
he grew larger in the same
increments, grew fat)

There is no understanding
around there, only a tsk tsk tsk
and the occasional "stupid *****"
"must love gettin' hit, why else
would she be back?"
but if I knocked on one of their
doors all ****** and bruised
would someone answer?

Even before shame takes over
they make up some excuse still
peering at me through a crack
in the drapes I AM NOT THEIR
****** MISTAKE is why I
don't leave because their kind
of abuse is even harder to take

Invisible women take up
a lot of space

step one: lie and tell everyone it's your birthday
step two: if no one asks "What do you want for your birthday?" make a big scene, ask for a ride to the local posh loony bin, and then say, "Well, never mind... I'll live..."
step three: open one eye and see if anyone gives a flying ****
step four: when someone finally asks "So what the **** do you want for your fake birthday, you *****?" act coy and smile a lot
step five: point to the ceiling and kick him/her/them in the shins
step six: get them to agree that this whole thing *****
step seven: feign surprise when they ask you again "WHAT THE **** DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY YOU INSANE ****!?"
step eight: mention that a couple hundred bucks wouldn't **** you

"To begin with, all my boyfriends
need to be named Anthony-
are you okay with that,
Anthony?"
from the look on his face
well, he doesn't look exactly
okay with it so I try to reason
with him, point out how ******
his current name is and how
being called Anthony should
come as a great relief ("Right
Anthony?")
and now he looks to be
in bargaining mode so
I stop him before he wastes
any breath- "No, we're not
gonna settle for Tony- Tony's
worse then the name you
need to get rid of." and
just like that he jumped
out of my car at a red light
which you might think
would surprise the crap
out of me but nope-
he's the third Anthony
I've lost this week and
it isn't even Friday