P. B. J.
Peanut Butter and Jelly
P. B. J.
I eat this everyday
Is this really healthy?
Who cares? We're rats anyway
P. B. J.
rats <- used to depict humankind
trying out new things
Lying back on the scratched bench
I heard the sound of horns approaching
A sign of sorts maybe for me to move
I tempered my urges and looked up at the skies
As kids of the night chased each other
Through streets in dreams that stitched together
Their own world where socks were plentiful
Their cuts were because of paper and
Their houses were free from debt collectors
Flashes of yellow made me pitch forward--
I sat up, my back striped and riddled with
Holes of a dream that did not belong to me.
this is an experiment-- used words drawn from another poem for this one
lately ive been lost
looking at others
hoping that there is
a life beyond and
bigger but reality
gets and stays bigger
with age; bills are
no longer in hand
they are just like
everything else-
numbers on screens
too bright to see
through the glare
They stand next to a kitchen island.
One clutches an orange peeling its layers,
her sweater casual and her hair tied back.
The other, with a tight smile,
gazing down at reflections on a bottle,
her hair loose and hands clutching the counter.
This is not our home but we break bread and
drink wine
on a night meant for blood relations;
we silently wish the world flat
so if we climbed high enough,
we could see them tonight.
I stand here soaking in the moment,
trying to capture the smells of cardamom
and cinnamon, sounds of the tv nearby,
Christmas lights strung up,
light-hearted laughter from
soon-friends soon-strangers.
We are perpendicular lines, meeting
at this house for a brief pause.
Our strange family of strangers
done up in monochrome-- our colors
brightened by laughter lines.
trying out new things
Dreamt of forcing politeness and eating
human flesh served at a dinner party.
We sat at tables looking our finest,
eating slow, my stomach and the knowledge
Taught to me in my crib fighting each bite.
That flesh continued haunting the inside
of my eyelids-- this was not my war; this
was not my struggle; this should never have
been my battle. Yet I see it in my
news, my tables, my tabloids, my back-alleys
and I-- I'm helpless, unable to move.
i'm trying out new things
for those days
when the world’s weight
lies heavy on your lungs
and the knots in your back
simply can’t be undone
by your tired fingers,
the aching lingers,
and your body can
go on no longer,
you mustn’t fret
you’re not to blame
for the demons
clutching to your frame
******* all your
energy away
you simply forgot
you were stronger.
their jabs, your pains
won’t keep you still,
witch, you were
born with iron will
your body may bleed
but they can’t ****
the spirit you hold inside.
focus, witch, and close your eyes,
concentrate on where the pain lies,
and use the power
you have at hand
your knots will unwind
at your command
the demons will flee
and your body shall be free
to leave the world’s weight behind
Bitchcraft.

the third spell
girl, when did you let
your love leave you?
did you think that there
was nothing you could do
about your sweet imperfections
the focus of your obsessions
that make you wish to be born anew?
girl, why do you shrink
from your mother’s touch?
have you lost your faith,
think it won’t do much
good on you, her sweet child,
too broken for prayer
she’d tried to raise a witch
but you only see failure
girl, open your eyes
and clear your head
why not give yourself
some warmth instead.
use ******, mint and cardamom,
honey and a stick of cinnamon,
to concoct a sweet brew
that will return to you
the love which you are due.
Bitchcraft.

the second spell
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