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Mar 2012 · 830
Anxiety1
Collette Abatta Mar 2012
I can't concentrate. My mind is whirling in a million different directions, bouncing off of satellites with a pseudorange accuracy of 12.5 centimeters...piercing and grazing that thing in the middle of my chest, sending a myriad of semi-coherent signals, all ripe with articulation, all priority levels stamped HIGH.
Feb 2012 · 943
So True
Collette Abatta Feb 2012
A sloppy connection made through dry sockets
Man-child trembles at his capabilities
Poor thing, my charge
A fifth of *** and a bit of battery acid
So true
A false wall that keeps the roaches in
Volunteer for a bit of community service
I serve, teach, and protect (frail ego systems)
I serve it up spiced and garnished
Cut up neatly with uniform premeditated precision
Little bite-sized baby food morsels for his mouth
So easy to chew
So true
So easy to swallow

The boy, lewd rude lust thrusting
(Drag in his line, correct its arc, and begin again, slower now)
Poor thing
The spotlight making his naked man-machine
Glow surreal satellite white, overexposed;
Pour viscous shadows into every exquisite crevice
In repose, underexposed
He begins to decipher my light projection
I put it to my lips…
My motive *****

Poor thing, always at a lack
Pretty vacant boy bomb
(Sigh…just lie still life)
Just one of the boys
Just one of the luscious little wind-up toys
Just another pound pounding of flesh
(Fact: humans are mostly dark meat)
He passes out before I can do any real damage

Superimposed, film the oily residue cell by cell
It is my body, oh yes
My doppelgänger dictates the disease
(White sound waves will wash my body
Clean to a distant, lonely shore)
Dip me in saliva
I come up gilded, salt streaks straps stinging
So true
I am sick of the flaming hoop trick
I am sick of his radiant Vegas platform
(Sick of trying tying a knot in this cherry stem)
Ambivalence a smeared lipstick stain from yesterday
My thoughts are exactly 21.5 miles away
Just once
I want something pure
Circa 1998
Feb 2012 · 573
tiny words
Collette Abatta Feb 2012
Cleave the terrible meaning into two
It starts with the insidious I--
Whole universe pregnant
Of which not one sheer, shorn sigh can be released:

And yet, it is wet on lips, serious as blood
To speak these dread in a tongue that is strange
So that you would be safe from their intentions
Simply to give pleasure to this hopeful mouth, of forming their ripe shapes.
The same inscribed, only to strike away
Perhaps
In making them briefly actual, therein lies salvation?

But too, the nightmare
That if this destiny is given its head
The fugue of the Horsemen ends.
Jan 2012 · 712
Cross
Collette Abatta Jan 2012
Lips parted, wet to smother
me, and
The galvanized gibbet of your stare . making myself small . knees to the floor
Swallowing my own unquiet heart the battery acid bite of ****** foreboding
I require your alms approximately once every 18.75 hours
Pitiful, fragile: a dove with two broken wings
For this, I yearn for the heavy hand of your regard
Render my flesh to the pulp of my ancient beginnings . born again
If you are willing, I am able . I pray
I will look to you . your appalling prophet . made whole in my unholiness
And I
Fling myself to flagellate my prostrate body upon the temple stairs
Each bruise after counted
My proof, bludgeoned on a tablet of tissue.
I will guild the seed of your mercy . bind it in stained glass . idol for my reliquary .
I have played Mary: both of her faces
By the Book
but only to drive away
So many to alien lands, discovered as a *****
Unable to accept my enormous blood debt—
Condemn me, the abomination: I beg
It is my calling
Shove that cross into my arms, nails and all
I will drag my carcass forward through the spitting masses
My heart, full of rapture.
January 18, 2012
Jan 2012 · 1.7k
Clay
Collette Abatta Jan 2012
Trick tricky on a radiant platform

Jezebel, arms full of gnashing curs
She loves everybody, that girl
She always meant well
The most dangerous thing in the world

Riding the dragon straight into the apocalypse
Nine heads slavering, always hungry
Swollen with decades of wasted debauchery

Brimstone falling from the rafters, pillars of melting wax, melting faces
Tongue to the iron, proving my lie
A deception of self, it’s a ******* masterpiece

The garden lush that falls to rot,
Lunatic blight, land that salts itself
Spending what was spent until it is finally dry like wither.

I,
I run hot and cold, a cheap parlor trick gone bad
Changing phase to phase and back again, losing a little more each time

Tiamat to fire the kiln, I wait
Too polluted by far to continue this way any longer

Wrapping myself up small for you, so helpless and inevitable
Hell-bent on teaching you how to better abuse me
Help me to recreate myself, oh yes please

I am, you will find
More pliable even, in the heat of your hands
Written January 5, 2012
Dec 2011 · 800
Feast
Collette Abatta Dec 2011
He was not beautiful.
Unlike the others, those spectacular animals
That grew exotic, wild
He was cultivated carefully
Handicaps tied to a splint
Hold him up and covered in burlap
--Milkfed--
Long ago, he had played his card for Unique
And got a handful of Subtle Wrongness
Poor thing, pitiful and susceptible to the hunt,
Described remotely in their ****** chant
A sign, a portent dropped
With ominous carelessness
It's inevitable--
Gross ineptitude, even without the physical weakness,
Is no match for Chaos
You know the end...
The Beast
Will feast
Circa 1999, scrawled on a receipt
Collette Abatta Nov 2011
I am ready
I disobey the god's revival
And trash the odds of my survival
Unlike my mother, and her mother before her,
I refuse to dabble in caution craft forevermore
Second sight seductive suasion
My vaulting vision sans precision
Harlot harbinger I am of endless happenstance
Sterilized with indecision
C'mon, baby-bomb, take a chance

I am ready, now,
To throw everything here away
It's all just trash and trials treacherous

Earlier today
I had a fever dream--
Of waking in another place
The sun fracturing the skin on my face
(But still I laugh to dance blind
And kiss the cyan sky)

I dream
Of the tandem-lipped tides that vie to taste me
Wet finger fringes ******* at my toes displace me
Rising up to bring me down
(Almost makes me want to drown)

...but here my bubble won't burst
Here it freezes first and dies of thirst

And so I am ready
To dance dollars out of rich Japanese businessmen
For paradise I can translate all their yen
It doesn't matter
If I slither for our supper
Or whether we sleep indoors tonight

Islands wild with abandon
We could be living radical and random
We could be living freezer-burn free
An outbound invite to jaded shade

This golden opportunity
(Hourglass sands swallowed by the sea)
The spiders of the rainforest are calling creepy
And queer, sustain and dim to disappear
Echoes of whispers from the ancient banyan tree
Calling me....
1998, I believe
Nov 2011 · 612
Stay Me, Dear Ruin
Collette Abatta Nov 2011
Before you spun the translucent filaments around your body
To seal your scars, so that they may stay fresh
You opened your mouth with your fingers across the signals
And sent me a packet of code that said: Stay.Away.From.Me.
I withered and died, completely slain
A corpse that can still weep
Every ******* day—
Like a road that leads into a wall
Like a snake eating its own face.
And I threw myself around
Into frivolous hours, empty words I choked on spite to say
Strange faces culled from a few stupid lines
Things wanted, terrible with the meaningless
Hopeful wolves, perfectly politely slavering
But the bare harlotry of my mourning is mute and blind
Perfectly politely proof and void
Perfectly.*******.ruined.
All you had to do was drop One Word and I could have stopped
I would have died happy, but No—
With the cheering of a sadistic crowd at my back
I grip the filthy saddle between my knees
Unable to even express my disgust
The evisceration of my eloquence, complete.
November 3, 2011
Nov 2011 · 743
Modus Operandi
Collette Abatta Nov 2011
I disgust myself
This weakness I have for it all
For meaning, for connection,
For the Great Him
The need to constantly be keyed
Up and into words bigger than me
My hormones are more than happy to oblige
And the not so subtle subterfuge
Sucker that I am
Aware but still hopeless
But I eat every last morsel
Cut small to fit my childish mouth
A mouth that can do Very Mature Things
A mouth that can honestly lie to herself
*****, please.
Oct 2011 · 1.0k
Carnivore
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
Sweetheart--singles' night
Slick fake leather dream.
The long pink cigarette choked between
Passion-fire red top
And hell bent bottom lip

Delicious breath--
A car crash in your eyes.
The spike-heeled goddess who never loved roses.
You show your eye teeth in that
Slo gin smile.

Those thighs of yours speak to me
In another illegal language
A freight train made of flesh.
1997-ish
Oct 2011 · 1.7k
Of Marie
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
She puts the Drag in "Drag Queen"
A handbag fiend, full of lipstick
syringes sequins
kleenex and a ***** trick
Metal bells tin rattle
at the edges of her words and white milk curds
--A Cursive of Sensation--
in the girl's bathroom
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
asks "what kind of man are you?"
Marie can throw a stone and always take down two
Mascara leaves ***** streaks
down cotton ball cheeks
sitting on the floor of the stall bang banging her head against the wall
She lets it go again
Nine lives, nine times out of ten
At work, at home
And back to the hospital again
Circa 1996...wherever you are, Marie, I hope you are well.
Oct 2011 · 2.6k
Pollute Pollination
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
The bad seed  ::  takes root  ::  roots extend ::  in the head  ::  A constant branching  ::  budding bursting ::  away  ::  and away  ::  and away  ::  roots branch and extend  ::  The Holy Schism  ::  Mother's breast  ::  bisected  ::  salt and milk  ::  curdle  ::  then settle  ::  into the nine creamy layers of Hell  ::  roots extend  ::  bury into Her pith  ::  bisected  ::  a honeysuckle rut  ::  Mother screams  ::  a poisonous  ::  foam  ::  spraying Her wither around  ::  killing  ::  the sacred cow  ::  ::  ::  there  ::  there She is  ::  the pretty blight  ::  the slit  ::  in the stem pursed tight  ::  down lower  ::  over two hills  ::  to a black and blue lagoon  ::  Mother in bloom  ::  Her putrid flower  ::  slaps open sloppy  ::  wide ::  open ::  for osmosis  ::  for curdled spore spew  ::  ******* flaccid  ::  with lips and teeth
1996-ish
Oct 2011 · 633
Fair Warning
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
I am dangerous
You should not be left alone with me
I will eat your soul with a tiny spoon
I will vanquish your body
With all of my unquenchable
And you will try to run, when it is too late
When my tendrils, my tentacles insinuate
Charming as a snake
And you will hide, and not respond
And I will wait, forever waiting
Tongue to marrow, blood caked
Forever and all
10/29/11
Oct 2011 · 2.9k
The Tale of Hester Synn
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
--Hand serenity manually entered
The automatic response system
Alerts red light blind blinking
Her excited isotopes fly, entropy askew
The 'A' stands for ready, willing and Able-bodied
Feather boa leather boy and scarlet adultery
Tucked neatly in the back of her dresser
Under bloomers and pictures of young baby boomers
--A civil masterpiece--
"I would love to," she says with a careless car crash
And a shaking ****** serial slave smile
Blowtorch full of propane and limp-action lidocaine
She cuts chronic through a slice of Hollywood layer cake
--Serves it skintight
Oct 2011 · 2.5k
The Ruins of Narnia
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
Their winter shadows, shrouded
Frozen freak statues
Part milk; a ****** virtual vision void

Snow Queen--bone fiend
My mother is beautiful
Her skin like blue wax
And grey ash
She sings a deep sleep
Singing though an aching forest

It's a riddle, you know
O, with my mind blanking out
So cold...sunlight dims
My bare limbs...I white out

....air so still...
Am
I
dead?
A museum relic laid open, pinned down

Eternity is a real thing
And Mother is a snow fiend.

The powdered white dream of me--
Somewhere, there is a tree crying
It's overgrown with crystal
(and frozen things shatter)

True time surges in:
A storm mauling everything
True time purges it--
All chaos, all icy knives
And wind-driven mist
Demon kissed paradise

My body is salted with pain
My body bathed in acid rain
Naked
Trembling
Cold stone
All alone

I am the woman of the iron lake
I awake, raw under a bitter sky
The moon is a still life tonight
Caught in an iron tree
Like a pearl of jealousy
1995-ish
Oct 2011 · 703
Fool
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
Too much reality for one night
Let me carry this mask
Let me hold it to my face.
I am proof--
Proof from all
(You cannot interject, I will not have it)
Drink absolute of my cliche:
The Answer is at the bottom of this chalice--
It is my grail , as I am frail
Limping toward Arthur
The lamb that he seemed
The trick more ancient
Than the landscape can remember.
Oct 2011 · 497
Untitled
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
To wear a man as a yolk
'cross my shoulders
My steps slow,
The load becomes too heavy
I hated it.
This is what is meant to be, I thought
What it all means...
Without, I a empty and alone,
     Right?
           Right?

I fall to my knees, and then to my hands.
From there, it is but a short distance,
Slowly settling down to the breast of the earth.
I press my brow to the moist soil,
With an ancient, wearied sigh

I sleep for years this way
A layer of moss across my cheek,
Saplings root into my scalp
And grow to mature trees
A small spring welled up beside me,
On the eroding banks,
My hand tumbled over and in.
It has become somewhat amphibious, I think
The giant, melted into her own landscape,
Full of inertia,
Full of dilute acid
Dreaming of being awake.
Oct 2011 · 934
There Will Be Regret
Collette Abatta Oct 2011
There will be regret, so much regret, I know this
          Yet
The alien thoughts of rebirth quickens in my gut, thickly moving with determined osmosis, to drive the very tides of my blood
To ultimately insinuate itself
Into the fibers of my nervous system.
Climbing up and into the pithy stem
To feel with my starry-ed synapses, to see with my own eyes
The parasite's willowy dendra
Protectively cupping the soft mass of my brain,
Tenderly releasing biochemical panaceas
   --The Mother of me--
I rise, a new creature,
Half of me mercifully dead,
Full of possibilities.

— The End —