He used it this morning.

Kevin Robinson,
Who has thick curly hair
And
Thinks
He
Knows
Everything.

And I told him,
"What kind of a word
Is
Irradiate?
It isn't a word."

And he told me
In his
Know
It
All
Way
"YES, it IS."

And he spelled it for me.
Because he's into spelling.

I
R
R
A
D
I
A
T
E

So I huffed
And left
Kevin Robinson.

But Randy Weidman
Whose last name
Has a whole different meaning
Had his fancy
New
iPhone 5
And during
First period
Which happens to be
Geometry Honors
He took out
Sira
Or
Whatever
Her
Name
Is

And he asked her.

Sira did not understand.
Sira is not so smart.

But autocorrect is.

And it turns out that
Irradiate
Is
A
Word.

I turn to
Stone
When I glance at you
I Jump into the sea
To escape your stare
Chill of
Salty waves
Nearly toss me
Like a sand dollar
Floating near the break
I become
Coral in a
Musky
Tide pool
Yet still I turn to you
For guidance
But you're too
Weak in your
Own rite
And you're not
Aware when I need
You the most
So I turn away
And I turn
Inward
Look in
And search for the
Answer but
It's simply not there
Pray to
The universe
Stained glass Jesus
Rotund Buddha
Dark Mother Mary
Demure and strong
And I hear...
Nothing
And the nothing is so
****** quiet
The nothing
Hurts my ears
So I clutch
My head
My hands press it hard
And tight
The headache drums
Demons play games
With my cerebral vortex
My vision narrows to
A pinpoint
Haloes consume the
Small space of
Sight that remains
The boulders I carry
Are too heavy
Lighten my load!
I plead
Before I'm
Dragged down
By the sea siren
She whispers lies
To me
Tells me she will
Carry the boulders
They'll be lighter
At the bottom
Of the sea,
She says
She tempts me
With her promises
Of peace, dark, cool, light
But I know better
If I go with her
It will mean death
And I've died
So many times already
I'm so tired of dying

about aboutness thematizing themes
flowers need not say, marching into war--
enraptured gaze their petals open far
to seek horizons conjured from a dream.
they grow to measure limits of all selves,
become the symbol-meaning recombined
--plucked to toss an emblem for the mind--
humming under captured sun, ecliptic quell
paper cups of burning blood becoming sky
bolster or efface the heart before its fate,
poetic flare leaves hunger unappeased--
the ruthless earth imbibes its digest dry
as interspiral helicals of age
assume finality's supernal ease

1.
the walls are built of shapes
triangles and circles and hexagons that do not
fit together
like we once did

we are these mislaid figures now

2.
the moon comes out at dark
but when I feel dark
I will not come out of my room

3.
the oilcloth catches my tears now because
you are too busy
to notice that they fall

it is like I am trying to hide
the weather

give a big umbrella to clouds in the sky

4.
the veins are taunting me
again

5.
the password to my email
is the last syllable of your first name
how average of me to want to **** myself and
keep talking from underground

6.
can I still apologize for holding your
heart hostage
as a dead-girl walking

I am cutting all of my shirts this summer
to change each seam into a headband,
one that matches my stretchmarks –
twenty-two, in fact,
that are in perfect style for anyone to see.