That frat boy’s
Bill Nye
Bowtie
Has got me thinking
Do kids these days
Even know who Bill Nye is?
Or **** Van ****?
Or Andy Griffith?
Some of my heroes from way back when
Is Eli Wallach
Ever going to ride his horse
Steal corn from Mexican villages again?
Do kids these days even know food comes from the earth
Not from a can?
I can’t imagine growing up
Inside
Except to watch Bill Nye
The science guy
And play Oregon trail
Home alone
On Friday nights

You fall too hard and you fall too fast
Don't you know you had what lasts?
And I say had
Because it's past tense
I'm sorry that "til death"
Did you part after only a quarter of a century
Makes a man think
It's ok to be scared of loneliness
It's ok to be afraid there's no more shared happiness
It's just a neurosis though
You know that right?
It's ok to feel like you're swimming in the ocean of your bed
And the coast guard is
Not on the way
To save you
Being single after taking vows
Is more than unfortunate
Worse than divorcing
She died
And I think you should be selfish
Just for a while, dad
Because you fall too far
And you fall too fast
Don't you know meteors burn themselves up
Doing just that?
Don't you remember
Camping out in the laundry room
Explaining falling objects and gravity
(which I still don't believe by the way)
Pointing at the sky out the window
Teaching your 6 year old
About the iron:nickel ratios?
Saying "Don't wake mom."
And dad, moons will glide in and out of orbit
Around you
And the vacuum of space
Will at times be filled with your loneliness
And longing for the past
And you'll keep falling fast
Burning up in the atmosphere
Leaving little craters here
And there
From the impact you have
On her
And her
And her
And your highschool girlfriend
And your daughters
And that woman in your yoga class
It's ok
You fall too hard
And  you fall too fast
Don't you know
Only superman could survive an impact like that?

I'm not as good at life as my mom said I would be. She said "Holly, one day you'll go scuba diving and you can tell me all about it." But I got stung by a sea urchin. Not even diving, just walking on the beach, toes wet. And now the aloe plant on my windowsill is leering at me. I'm never outside long enough to get a sunburn. Although admittedly, burning me takes more sunlight than the day ever actually has. I'm never outside long enough to feel like a deer anymore. The skull on the counter, still bubble-wrapped from flight, is sightless and maybe waiting to be painted. And I think when it is nailed up I will feel like a deer again, remembering about the antlers and the fear of guns, without even knowing what to call them.

Ex-virgins wake up in the morning
And they cry
Feeling no different
At having lost
Their intangibility

That rough-cut
Turquoise
Pendant pulls my eyes
Downward
I want to trace her collarbones
Delicately
Sweetly
See if she's as soft
As she seems

25 and broad shouldered
the sun hits his eyes
23 and half naked, my chest,
the top of our heads

The ocean throws boats off
the edge of the world
the horizon stretches
longways, a hammock

In the water eyes open,
his grin, luminescent,
In the water eyes closed,
the taste of salt, the quiet
way the waves go on and on

This is not a poem.

When you made preserves our house
Didn’t seem so haunted
Our kitchen seemed bright and inviting
Instead of white and sterile
The window above the sink seemed so far away
And the curtain above that
Even farther
They were
Peach
Turquoise
Brown
And they made me dream of Indians in their teepees
Lonely desert nights
Though I had never been there
Arizona
New Mexico
California
Colorado
I had never been to those places
Those were your places
That was where you fell in love
Dad told me
And the pictures in the laundry room told me
I always went in there to look
For a part of you I had never met
But sometimes when you were making preserves
You were that girl again
With a crazy mass of curls that you’ve never tied back
Cuz you hate your ears
After two kids, you were still skinny
And taller than I’ll ever be
And in the heat of the kitchen
Tiny drops of sweat beaded on your forehead
You’d roll up your sleeves
Tie your shirt at the waist
And laugh and play in the steam where you boiled the mason jars
Pretending you were at Yellowstone again
Watching Old Faithful erupt from the earth
Right on cue
Holding Dad’s hand
Back before he grew his beard
I tried to count your freckles while you were reminiscing
You’ve got a lot
A lot a lot
I thought you were the prettiest woman I had ever seen
As you turned those scalding mason jars upside down
And told me to wait till I heard them pop
You made it sound like it would be magical
Elusive
Like if I didn’t pay attention
I would miss it
And I did.
Everytime.
Cuz I was in the laundry room looking at pictures
Of someone I didn’t know
When a symphony of popping would ensue
From the kitchen
And I’d come running
But I missed the mason jars rattling
And shaking as they played their tune
Raspberry preserves in c minor
I missed the butcher’s block by an inch as I slid on the linoleum
And nearly knocked over the coyote cookie jar
I missed my chalkboard easel
By the Grace of God
My earliest masterpieces remained intact
But I did not miss your face
Or the grin that lingered
When the popping ceased

Is driving home from his part-time job
Answering IT phones for some college
And he flips a lady off when she pulls out in front of him
And he thinks "I shouldn't have to deal with human ****."
And he thinks "When I get home,
I'm gonna smoke a bowl."

There's another message from his ex-girlfriend
On the answering machine
"James, why haven't you been fighting crime?
Why haven't you been saving citizens?
Why haven't I seen you flying through the skies
in your red tights and mask? James, remember
When you saved my life? Remember
When you saved the whole city? Why
Did you stop caring? You've been given all these gifts
And you sit around drinking, thinking
'I'll let someone else get this one,' but who else
Can leap tall buildings and lift burning schoolbuses
Off of screaming children? And who else out there
Has x-ray eyes, but a gentle touch? You're a hero
And you need to act like one. You're an *******,
But a super one."

BEEP

"Thank God," he thinks
Deletes it
Pulls a six pack out of the fridge
His broad shoulders sink into the couch
On the news
Someone's been shot
Someone's been robbed
He turns it off
"Not my problem." He says
Finality in his voice
Finishing a bottle

"Passion is for the weak
Caring gives me the creeps"
In the distance his sonic hearing picks out a scream
His radioactive muscles tense
Ready to spring into action
The feeling of responsibility dissipates
Like it always does

"Not my problem." he says
Another beer is gone
Another message blinking on the machine
Her again.
Dumb broad.

If I'm invincible,
What is there to worry about?
If I'm invincible,
What is there to cling to?
If I'm invincible,
Why should I give a **** about mere mortals?

He calls his nemesis
"Let's go out later. Let's get wasted
And break things with our super strength."
He hits a cat on the way
Backs over to make sure it's dead
The night is a success already

So I miss you in the spaces
Where your hands go
The between times
In our sleeping
Where maybe we aren't even touching
But I can feel you
Hear your breathing
In the spaces in between
Sweetening my blood
Flowing thick
Like mesquite honey
Hummingbirds in my stomach hovering
And drinking
their fill

And I'm enough for something
Sustenance for something
Other than me
Enough for someone
Who sees my betweens
And puts his hands
Where they need to be
Warms them
On my belly full of flowering mesquite
Nectar for the humminbirds
And bees

I got longing in my heart
For age and money
Wisdom
Years and money
Being young is funny
Being anything is funny
Because always you’d rather be anything else

I got longing in my heart
For time and money
Being youngandstupid
Isn’t funny
It isn’t fun anymore
I will always be poor
Because youngandstupid is one word

I got longing in my heart
And I’d rather be anything else
Than what I am right now
Being youngandstupid starts to hurt
When you’re not so young anymore
But youngandstupid is one word

I got longing in my heart for the things I never learned
I got longing in my heart
I don’t want to be stupid anymore
I don’t want to be one word
I want to be anything else
I could be anything else
If I would just stop worrying and learn

After runs last August
I used to find the church unlocked
And I'd lay on my back
Under the altar
Sweat soaking into the
Blood-of-Christ colored carpet
Lily-scent
Inhaling deeply
I felt the waves wash over me
I felt the earth breathe
And I remembered one night
I was thirteen
Learning catechism
When the pastor told me
"Human and divine are the same things."

I ran to the church last time I visited home
And found the doors locked
So I laid on the ancient concrete of the parking lot
Exhaling deeply
The pollen and the sweat smell and the cut grass of moments
Passing
The blood pounding in my ears sounded like truth
And when I found a cut under the salt on my shin
Somehow it tasted like honey

I love him in the morning
When the sleep rolls off his skin
And is buried in wrinkled sheets
With last night's stale sweet nothings
And my scent

I love him in the morning
When he just barely cracks his eyes
And it's as if he's seeing me for the first time
I think when his alarm goes off
The whole world
Stands at attention

White fang piercing soft muzzle, clumsy paws fumble unsuccessfully.

Your voice is like sweet ether
On a ***** kitchen rag
It calms me down
It knocks me out
Knocks me up
I am pregnant with the sound
That 6 strings produce
And the beauty of your words
The fire walkers in you
Your fingers always knew
Know?
Have known?
How to pick the smiles
From my insides
Pluck the kisses from my lips
Draw the nectar
Sweetness?
Sugar?
Out
50 Ways to turn me upside down
50 ways to be knock-the-wind-out-of-me
Put-me-back-on-my-feet
Incredible
In the beginning it was dark
And you said
"Let there be colors
Let me have a guitar"
In the beginning
God colored me
Full of red blood cells
And vitriol
Carefully
Steady hands
Inside the lines
But with shaky hands
There's so many more shades
Blooming
Cascading
Lightning strikes
And this is the last time
I swear it's the last time
I will weather these storms
My daddy said there'd be boys like you
Boys who could make it rain
You know when I'm with you
I lose my mind a little
Who is this kid?
And how is he under my skin?
He's a tattoo I don't remember getting
Maybe I was drunk
Maybe I'm in love
Whatever that is.
Dog hair on duvet covers
Avocado-flavored lollipops
Antique shops
Every song about a different girl
Like 32
24
36
Bursting at the seams till I
Can't take no more
Jackie
Madeline
Taylor
Adrienne
And probably
Certainly
Girls I've never met before
What you do to me doesn't make sense
My intestines turned up at the corners
Pelvic thrusting on the couch
A little bit louder now
A little bit louder now
The mortars are screaming
Down
I'm quickly losing the war with myself
Jericho's walls
Are crumbling
And I'm told we have nothing to fear
But fear itself
Nothing to fear but ourselves
And a boy with glasses
Writing checks that I'm afraid will bounce
Singing softly to me
On the couch

I saw you on TV
specifically
your ***
and I just wanted to say
NICE HUSTLE

The nation's midsection bloats like a Mississippi fish in the sun.

There are men in the yards
Boys, really
That teased me endlessly
In school
And now they are grown up
Angular in their carhartts
Corn fed
Sun red
From bailing too much hay
A little extra money on a weekend
They are clad in camo hats
Soft denim
Work clothes

When I knew them they were farm boys
Who were never looking for more
Than a corn fed
Country princess
A pair of cowgirl boots
To take to bed
And now they’re driving fire trucks
Tractors
International harvesters

Their princesses
Have fattened up
Wide hips are good for children
Easy enough to let yourself go then
Cute clothes are for the rich city *******
Who still fit into a 2

And their kids
A new generation of
Freeburgians
Are drawing with chalk in the streets
And the older ones
Are riding bikes
Long outgrown
Scraping their knees
Getting stung by bees
Shoplifting from the motomart

They will grow up normal
Grow into their work clothes
Keep that small town pride alive
Keep the corn fields, keep the rye
Keep the beans and wheat and barley
Growing high

And I keep running right on by
I never knew these people
Though I wear boots too
And my hands are calloused
From working with the soil
In the distance I can see the steeple
And my car
Parked for a quick getaway
Another day
Avoiding this place

Always a president
Never a vice
Made of sugar and spice
Fresh herbs from your windowsill
I'm convinced if I opened you up
I'd find a smaller
Russian nesting Paula
Hiding inside
Afraid of getting hurt
Enjoying the protection layers afford
I'm convinced if I
Turned you inside out
You'd be exactly as beautiful
And classically radiant
Launching blue and auburn sparks
Into the night
A renaissance painting
Come to life
Madonna in jeans

Jaw harps and pine boxes
The day I chipped my tooth
Was the day she died
And Abby ran three miles
In record time
I hugged Dave
Like I had known him my entire life
I saw you in a suit
Ran my tongue over my broken tooth
A hillbilly at a funeral
In the back of the church
God came and found you again
Abby was still sweating
And I was trying to cry
Watching you age before your time
Feeling my tooth
Searching my crowded purse for the harp
Kneeling at her pine box
Pretty girls
Go to heaven
Pretty girls break the hearts
They leave behind
I felt my tooth one more time
Caught your eyes with mine
Abby took me to the car
To cry
About jaw harps and pine boxes
And growing up too soon

Men with rambling fever
Are born not bred
Their diagnoses are terminal
No cure but to go
And they sell their souls to the devil
For a train to hitch a ride on
And they'll die along the highway
While their women stay home
Remaking beds
That have never been slept in

I slept in this morning
Even though I didn't need to
I stretched my limbs
Out into the ocean
Trying to stay afloat alone in my bed
And through my spyglass
I still couldn't find the edge of it
No body of land to stand solidly on
I concluded that beds must be round
Orbiting microcosms floating through apartments
I got up and didn't tuck the sheets in
I got up and didn't make it

I didn't make it through college
Because as soon as I got settled
Into my air mattress
I un-made it
Everything called my name
I tried to ignore the voices
I tried to avoid them
But the mattress deflated quickly
The sails inflated cleaner than a cloudy day
The maps on my wall needed navigating
I had too much exploring to do

I've read about explorers
Men who made their fortunes
Hunting gold and looting temples
Never returning home
Because the beds they left, they had already met
Men who mapped the oceans
And gave their names to continents
Practically for free

I will freely admit that I'm like them
Unable to stop myself
From risking it all
For a chance at nothing at all
Unable to stay in one place
For long enough
To make my bed and lie in it
I will freely admit that rambling fever
is not ladylike
I will freely admit I'm an
Unsettled woman
I will freely admit
I shed lives and beds with purpose
I shed lives and beds like skin

Aren't you a medicine man?
Aren't your lungs full of blue smoke and jars of dust that your mother collected in Idaho?
Are you confident in the permeability of memory?
Confident in your snake oil cures?

I think I know you
I think I've been waiting for you patiently sipping my beer and humming "golden slippers"
I think the best thing about home is that there are almost no poisonous plants here and the bees rarely sting me

You sang the second verse of "Home on the Range,"
the verse that nobody knows
And I couldn't breathe thinking about what my life would have been if it hadn't been this
narrow

I went ahead and bought the miracle elixir

I wanted there to be a word
For the space between
Her penultimate breath and her last one
There were no words
Nobody makes them like that anymore
If I had to pick one though it would be
A word like a waiting room or
A word like an anvil or
A word like being called on when you don't know the answer

But that moment wasn't so much
A moment as a pregnancy
Of emotions
And it wasn't so much
The expectation of my feelings
Being born as it was
The end of her feeling
Anything she could hope to use
Words for

*If I started writing now I wouldn't even know where to begin

In the end they're just men; they're not the products of a Disney dreamer's imagination.

And I'm a three-beer girl with tattoos, trust issues, and a heart of gold.

We don't choose love
Love chooses us
And I am unhorsed
At the thought of
It's never the right place
Never the right time
Lance splinters in my eye
I am blinded this time
A well-placed blow and
I'm mired in the mud
Hooves in the rush
Pounding hearts
Scoliosis
Beating the wrong names
And places
Under suits of armor
And all the wrong words
Collecting in the dust
We are lucky
If love chooses us
If the battle is lost
And the armor is tossed aside
I'd give my kingdom
For a horse to ride
Fighting and dying
For blood, love and country

Celebrating father's day early
With Billy in his black lab tee
And Abby passing cards
Under the table to me
We close down the restaurant
The sky falls in sheets as we're leaving
And wet hair chases me
Into the wine shop down the street
Where I decide to be polite
Not just dry
And I buy a corkscrew
Now I can drink the wine
My ex boyfriend made me
Now I can get tipsy and
Finish the book my current man gave me
It took 8 years
2 deaths
And too many well-timed broken hearts
To bring us together
Collaterally
It's almost too much
And on my drive home
From dinner
A dive that's now our
Family favorite
With a menu I met
Chasing a boy before I came to my senses
And my stars aligned like white picket fences
To make May and my new man
Taste like heaven
A car swerves in front of me
The license plate reads
SRNDPD
The ***** cut me off again

Every night I have dreams
Of storms
Savage
And ravaging
Everything I love
Tornadoes carrying off my mother
Baby bobbing in the floodwaters
Dad
Under the logs of the house
Calling out to me
And I’m searching frantically
Eyes on the sky
All the time tasting the salt
Of the rain
The sting
Of the cuts in my lips
But there is no lightning
In the storms in my mind
Did I ever tell you I got struck by lightning
Seven times?
Once
On the couch at your parents house
The first time
I felt your heart beat
Next to mine
Twice
Fogging up the windows
On a December night
My tears on your shoulder
Your kiss on my forehead
The third time
So far from home
Wrapped in your jacket
Smelling you on my skin
As I fell asleep that night
Four
We were saying goodbye
Without saying anything
And two hours away
I was thinking your name
Five and six
You pulled me out of mom’s car
Took the keys
Awake in the spare room
All night long
Braiding my hair
Feeling my collarbones
On New Year’s Eve
You brought me home
From St. Anthony’s
Like nothing was wrong
I was still beautiful in your eyes
So you carried me upstairs
Tucked me in
Whispered love
And it was only eleven
Central time
Then the seventh time I got struck by lightning
My heart stopped beating
I stopped breathing
I said “yes”
Imagining the day I’d say
“I do”
And designing my new tattoo
You looked into my eyes
Took my hand
And said “I’m going to take care of you”
“you don’t have to worry ever again”
But now old fears come flooding back
Love washed away like debris
In the scenes from my dreams
I’m looking for lightning
And getting soaked
On my porch in North Carolina
Knowing I’ll dream of storms
Again tonight
Praying I’ll feel a little jolt
From the dark beside me
The voltage running through my skin
Is the same as yours
500 miles away
Asleep in Missouri

Darling I want you

Sweet, sticky, hot, and heavy

Honey in my heart

There's something beautiful about freckles and blemishes and imperfections before I'm made up in the morning. There's something right about naked in the mirror; flaws and scars and age that accumulates with the years. I am a story to be read. I've got skin like a song.