#streetcar
I see you in the arrival of streetcars
in the mud and blood of New Orleans.
You’re a Stanley among plucked weeds.
Or I recognize your smile, your horse-like nod
so curtly possessing me once before
(though you need to brush your teeth).
You used to prance around, chest like a rooster’s, your
gaudy breath seeping through decidedly crude remarks.
You pecked at my hen cage. I could’ve let you in.
And there again I lay in bed, your Napoleonic
threats—the implied and fabricated—
haunting me. Such are the dangers of being lonely.
Among the stella, I’m Laika-like, floating in fear as the Earth draws farther,
the pinhole camera world ecstatic with discovery, and I feel your
panting presence over my shoulder. Desire.
In every cell of my body, you have chained bits
of your brain into. Stanley, won’t you,
won’t you, just leave me be?
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 10:19 PM UTC
We’re getting on this streetcar
without our permission.
Deciding every single day,
not to get out, just to survive,
until the next stop, the next breath.
Let’s pretend to be naive,
when the absurdity of norms
pushes us to follow the one-way track.
Please, look around,
see through rose-colored glasses,
how beautiful it could be!
Everything would seem easier
and more tolerable.
In this magical place,
we once called wishful thinking,
all the stars spark at night,
the rainbow shines all day!
Why must we be so practical,
when stray pieces intertwine,
forming a cohesive and unique whole?
Passing silently, unnoticed,
in the city of unseen lines,
in the depth of our hearts,
we dream that this tale
could end happily.
We, all Passengers,
craving more space
spreading our wings,
we are trapped in small cages.
In the streetcar called
Bare Existence
until the last trip,
until the last call,
we wish only
to be unconditionally accepted.
Apr 10, 2025
Apr 10, 2025 at 12:15 PM UTC
A green streetcar is standing alone in the rain,
The man on the corner is staring at the green street-
Car . He is trying to remember
His daughters fifth birthday.
The green streetcar is alone in the rain.
The man is alone on the street in the rain.
He is staring at the streetcar, trying to remember
His daughter’s best friend’s name.
The man can hear the rain falling on
The empty green streetcar.
Rain is running down the back of his
neck and it is making him cold.
She is so much older now.
Apr 23, 2024
Apr 23, 2024 at 3:36 PM UTC
I expected the spaces left to shrink
I thought my body'd forget your square shape
I hoped my holed heart wouldn't be left agape
Boldly naive, a baby dressed in pink
I hate you for leaving me stuck to think
You were the only one here not an ape
I don't want to patch my canyon with tape
But no choice I have, you left in a blink
Now, it's my duty to bat my lashes
First to mop the crystal geyser of tears
Secondly, coquettishly-over to him
Who he is matters not, only passion.
Hotel? Motel? I'm sick of these affairs.
Alone, I must remain-with him in Grimm.
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 1:12 PM UTC
Did you forget all of me was inside you?
I only used your holes for my spare parts
At first-until each ounce I extracted
Now, looking in the mirror asking-who?
I think I lost myself inside of you
I can't retrieve now that you've retracted
You've broken me with your breach of contract
I used to see color, now only blue.
Love or life, I wonder which is the greater loss?
Is ownership a prerequisite of grief?
If so, my pain I am not entitled.
Although relieved I am of albatross
I'm now racked with curs'd thoughts of that thief
Alone, sans my resource for survival.
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC