I am me.
Not Peggy Sue
or Mary Lee.
My thoughts are different,

my feelings too. I need a wider
fence to gallop and trot. All who
sat in my saddle have fallen
off. I won’t be roped in or

pulled. I’m sure I’d make
a better mule. Do not compare me
to your others! The bee makes honey –
the cow milk, the silkworm

silk. That's how it is! And will
always be so. If it’s too much for you –
then let me go!

I'm not like the rest.
When you ask why I can't get by
with what the others do it's because
they are them and you are you.
But I am me.
Maybe to you that doesn't make sense.
But they are straight and I am bent.
And being bent isn't all that bad.
I think I'd die if I were straight -
going only one way
without a curve, without a
pocket to swerve.
To me this doesn't seem natural.
Being twisted has its kinks.
But it's far more interesting
than one would think.
Sometimes I get tangled up in knots.
But those spots where I get tied
give me wings where I can fly.

Death come quick!
Come fast!
You’re so slick.
I can’t last.

Death come soon.
Please do hurry!
At noon
wheel me out in a surrey.

Death come neatly.
Come softly.
Take me completely.
Been feeling awfully.

it was ignorance, complacency
thinking we had forever
but forever died –
forever
but this survived
and this is what I’m making my art
this is what is I’ve got
so, I’m turning it out
I’m reliving it –
line
by line
stronger through time
stronger through the truth that you
were so afraid of me knowing
I found out through
your best friend
and my love –
hasn’t changed since then
clearly speaking from my heart
I would do it over again
knowing its tragic end

There’s no time left
No time to figure out
where we’ve gone wrong
No time to right this wrong
I’ll carry the stain with me
until my death
I’ll wear it for all to see
til my last breath

chopping down years as trees
in a forest of burnt leaves. Stop looking
over my shoulder as a kid with his hand
in the candy jar, with chocolate smeared

all over his mouth and that chagrin look
on his face. When I know he would
do it again when someone’s not looking.
Look, I’m not some unrequited

love that’s scorned you. I might scream and say
I wish you would come on those disparaging
days when I feel cast aside as a shadow,
when the discord is heavy as my bedroom set

and the lines on my forehead connect. But you didn’t
take me literally? Did you? There’s more life
in me then that jar of pennies I save for a rainy day –
so go on, and leave me the hell alone! I won’t come

crawling to you on all fours. When the steely razor
looks tempting, to cut me. And it shines bright
so, I see my reflection on its blade then I’ll be able
to say – Now! Right Now! Before I chicken out.

I don’t want to look back on it
with rue. So, I’ve got to do everything I can
while I am here. Go to the places

I want to visit. Love the people I want
to love. Chase the underside of the
rainbow. Hitch a ride on a unicorn. Live my life

with full intention. Pick carefully what I leave
to chance. Come up with an invention. Write the
song. Dance the dance. Fill my heart with

a love bouquet. Laugh out loud. Play all
day. Fill my head with pleasantries –
absolutely No negativity!

Kindness for everyone. Be happy for others
and what they have done. Bid them
well. Be genuine. We only have a limited

time. I don’t want to be wishing in the intermission
that I had done something different. I want to know
when they close the curtain that I’ve lived
a life that’s certain.

My insides color
my out,
through a window
of cut crystal.  
It gives me
great pleasure
to enter
the lips
of another.
I was made
to be drained.
So is the glass.
But the glass
is a selfish sort.
I, at least
share my port.

a dark house of clay, I turn
into a tavern. Drink the years
and lay down this like a slave. Stalagmites,
my pillow. Head heaving with

heaving billow. A life underground. A stop
in the round. The weathering of this
rock inside walls of chalk. I chip with
fiery chisel, grizzle haired. Carving

hieroglyphics. Noting the specifics
to some passersby. Like trying to catch
a fly in my hand/waiting for him
to land. And clocking his movements. But

seeing no improvement. No windows
or doors. But I've floors to walk,
and echoes to talk back at me.
Lively company!

This is the same.
Been down this road
before.
He just had a different
name.

And I really thought,
I swore,
never going down
no more!

But then along you
came.
Now I'm fearing
it won't last.
I'm pushing you away.
Because I'm bound up in
the past.

I'm not living in today.
I’ve been so lonely,
hanging out there
suspended.
Until you cut the string
that held me
my loneliness
ended.

Are you're feeling it too?
A little bit in me,
a little bit in you.
Deja Vu

This is the same.
You've been down this road
before.
She just had a different
name.

And you really thought,
you swore,
you would never go down
no more!

But then along I
came.
Now we're trying to
make it last.
Wanting our love to stay.
No longer blended
with the past.

Someone who cuts with silence
The power of the unspoken word
You’d need stilts to walk above this
Petrified of anything untied
Roaming in the cracks, a filthy roach
Careful not to sound glib or trite
Take out what you have in the drawer
Speckle it with humor
It always worked before

You close your ears
to that you don’t want to hear
you’re limited that way
you think that’s happiness
Watered Down happiness -
you’re not getting the real thing
it’s a delusion
deep down you know different
but you tell yourself
something else
and shut out all others and anything
that would challenge this delusion
of what happiness is
living in a bubble by yourself
it’s lonely in there
so, you fill it with inanimate things
that take up space
and when this space is filled
you think your life is as well

Democrats & Republicans

A needle is a slender piece of shiny metal
with a hole at one end. A thread is a long,
colorful strand of cotton.  They feel very different,
when you hold them in your hand. One is loose,

the other is stiff. They don’t look the same. One is
straight as an arrow, the other can change
its shape as it bends.  But when I push the thread
through the eye of the needle a miraculous

event occurs. Now the two start working
together. And together they have the possibility
to do many great things. My golden button was coming
unraveled. If the needle and thread didn’t repair it,

it would have fallen off, lost forever,
somewhere in the park. I always think about that
on my long, nature walks. I can relate it to most anything,
the democrats and republicans.

can be easily satisfied
if you’re a child -
a toy
or a candy-bar
a vacation in the family car
a warm lap to climb into
a hug

Some children’s desires
are intangible such as -
security and love
These emotional desires
go unfulfilled
into the hearts of adults. Then the toys become
bigger things. And the candy-bars
become drugs.  And the desire becomes

stronger than it ever was. It’s sought
in many faces -
all with different names. But
the expectations remain the same. Desire
then becomes
a bottomless pit of neediness
that cloaks
that of love. If only it was satiated when
it was simple as a hug.

smells like rotten garbage
and gnaws at you as a rat-infested sewer
has your head dizzy as a brain tumor
enlarging until its pushing out through
when your legs are spread
for some recognition
and your head is nodding in submission
because your lines aren’t getting the attention
so you rope them in with suggestion
and at your age –
that’s **** hard!
but they eat you up
**** your scars
and if that’s what it takes
you’ll do it
you’ll do anything

‘til you crept up my stairs
and stared at me as if I was
a butterfly landing on your
knee. And you, a flea

dancing in-between the hairs
on my head. I couldn’t shed
you off. You were growing
as Jack’s beanstalk. I hadn’t talked

to a man in years. I spend
my mornings hunched over my laptop
in a straight-back chair. My lines
are flat as the honeysuckle mat

at my front door. None step on
it. It’s quicksand. It ***** you in
and pulls you down into the dirt
cellar of all my troubles. And you’re

not a bottom dweller. No, you’re
a VP. I spilled myself over you,
as if I was perfumed powder snowing
on your shoes. But you were firmly fixed

as the cement poured on my sidewalk
and a house of bricks. Solid as the old oak
standing in my yard. Your face, the moon –
your eyes the stars.

You burned
your candle at both
ends. I suffered a loss
of light. Instead of

getting bright you
dwindled in size. There
was less and less
of you. I tried to

tell you. Yet you
told me you still carried
the flame. You couldn’t see
that it was getting

lowered down
to a glimmer
until a light breeze
snuffed it out
                      completely.

chipping off the painted
color. Twisted as a cruller,
hollow and hard. Life’s duller
after the accident. It’s an unlit

cigarette, a junkyard red corvette
folded like an accordion, scraps of old
pieces of tin. Memories mixed with lime and
gin don't wash out this suffering. Dings

and dents of cellulite. Dimpled skin
that once held tight now hangs low
just like the blues and mistletoe. The soft
December snow clings to the frosted window.

I ate it
wallowed in it
added water to make made mud pies
I planted in it
grew flowers colorful as butterflies
I carried it into my house
wore it on my buckled leather shoes
it stained my white lace dress
brown handprints on the walls
the halls looked a mess
it hardened on mother’s kitchen floor
in dark footprints she didn't ignore
she whipped me with the wooden spoon
locked me in my room till noon
stuck under my fingernails
in the tub left a ring
I dished it out with friends
gee, those girls can sling
the men it's on their minds
they roll in it as pigs
ha, they all are suited swines!
washed out in the laundry
read in girly magazines
kicked up in the baseball field
the visiting and home teams

The conversations become pithy.
Friendly still, but almost cut-off, like
someone pulled the cord on the power drill.
The atmosphere isn’t as

relaxed. It’s more of “where are we going”
“when are we getting there” Remember when
those things didn’t matter. Time was cookie-
dough batter you ate unbaked.

And there was no destination for anything
to shape. And that was Ok. You can’t
place your finger on it when it slips
away.  It becomes a grease stain

on your favorite pants. You’re stiffer than
your starched shirts. Talk is contrived. It hurts
almost like your bowel movements. There’s a
strain on every consonant. The silences

are filled with anything like that drawer
in your kitchen that your spouse wishes
you’d clean. But you never make time for it.
***** dishes come first.

The world is a bunch
of ***** rats holding fast to
their scraps, engraving them with
their initials. Giving a speck,

expecting a bushel. And then
disparaging those that have more. That’s
how it goes when you’re looking for
compliments under a lamp light

that isn’t your own. Into the cold night
you ***** rats lose sight of anything
you can’t get your hands on.

If you can’t bring something out
into the light
if you must hide that something
out of sight
if you make up lies to cover up
what you’re doing
if there’s a sense of shame
it’s not worth pursuing

***** Water

I wish my hurt were bath water
I’d wash it down the drain
Accumulated from the years
rinse out all the pain

My tears fill the bath and still spill over the sides
hurtful things people done, too many lies
floating inside theses bubbles,
escaping my pain and my troubles.
Never feeling clean/never feeling clean

When you’ve grown up to feel useless you become
No better than ***** water; no better than floating ****
I try to skim it off the top, it sticks like chewing gum
I’ve scrubbed it with a scouring pad, turning the water bright red
Never feeling clean/never feeling clean

One day I’m going to put my face down into the water
Let it get inside my ears, my eyes, my nose my mouth
Drown my sorrow. Drown this body .
Let my spirit fly/ clean at last/clean of the past

as a crumbled tissue
after it's been blown in
snot up and thrown in
the ******* bin

Discarded
as ***** water
in the bath
running down the drain
leaving a black ring
around the whole **** thing

Discarded
as a ******
pulled by a string
not seen
flushed down the toilet
for a new one that is clean

Discarded
as a piece of paper
scribbled with doodles
tossed like wet noodles
into the garbage can
with scraps from the frying pan

Discarded
as a broken umbrella
after the rainstorm
bent inside/out
with the wires sticking out

littering the yard, full
of the heat of a man’s breath
full of his germs set
for young hands to pick up
and hold
young hands that none
have told

Amego, you’re carrying out
a rotten job
with the staff to discard
Hazardous Waste in the same yard
my son plays
without regard
of his safety

Written letters
I sent to apprehend
the man or men
vacantly tossing
their rag of spit and coughing
I’m beyond angry-
I’m into crazy!
If he picks up this virus
I’ll Sue!
I did it to the Boston Public Schools
and won!
Don’t **** with me –
I'm a loaded gun!

Probe deeper -
Disrobe the fallacious

coverings. As the baby chick disrobes
it’s down to sprout out wings. Assumptions are

a mistress. The seduction will leave
you twisted. Disrobe the past. The lining that held

the ends up are splitting. We can’t keep
together what isn’t. Fall down the hole

with me once more. With eyes wide open
they’ll be no floor.

as the Milky way
from the dawn's gleam of light
to the black edged sword of night
divided as the oceans

on a seascape terrain
landing as a pin
on a galaxy pulled to spin
she planet Earth, him Neptune

with no bridge
to cross them over
green as a field of clover
under a grey goose sky

hailing with stinging bees
a woman's silhouette
with pen dancing pirouettes
her soldier turns and flees

she lost him in the dust
blown like spores of pollen
he cannot hear her callin
the horizon has leprosy

slide through masks?
fly through doors?
Can they slip through
glass?

I ask
if the kisses
caress those lips.
Dancing hips

to the music
of
my love

So, you can see me in two? The hairline
cracks are widening that the bats are
flying in. They’re roosting on the edge of
broken promises and dreams, of

dry martinis and restless nights
mangled from the things you've said. Buzzing
on my head as a fly, loud as the 1812th overture
in July. Isn't it plenteous that I've chipped off

more than is sticking to me? That the ground
is covered in my flakes and dust? You can't sweep
the crust off the floor. My weeping puddles are rust
on your door. The stain is on your hands.  No soap

washes it out. No vacation or cream or ***
on the sand lands the plane, that we've circled
over and again. My splinters are the quills
I write with. The shards I poke you to see

if you are awake. And if you'll catch me
as I break. All the years you've slept like a baby
as I've wept. Now I’m drier than my martini, and
dreams are smaller than a string bikini.

the word?
Do I write the line?
Do I have to spell it out?
Would it help

if I shout it one more time?
Do I have to beg?
Should I go that far?
Do I have to strip myself

right down to my own scars?
Do I show you the parts that I abhor?
Do I hold it all inside?
Do I take a chance?

Do I tell you the truth of who I am?
Would that be someone you could never understand?
Would you turn away in disgust?
Do I trust that you could love someone like me?

not because they think you can’t
but because you can

Do It
not to prove them wrong
but to prove to yourself worthy

Do It
not to upstage them
but to engage yourself in something you love

not because they think you can’t
but because you can

Do It
not to prove them wrong
but to prove to yourself worthy

Do It
not to upstage them
but to engage yourself in something you love

or not? I told him to forget
about it for today. But I’m not sure
he’ll get the message right away. And if
he does should he ignore it? Then I might

think he doesn’t care. Even if he listens
to me because I told him directly that I just
wanted to keep to myself. Will I blame him
if he does? Listen to me that is, and not go forward

with the call. Am I making any sense
at all? You see I might subconsciously be testing
him without realizing at this precise moment. He’s
****** no matter what he does. He knows this

because he knows me. And I am impossible
to say the least. Right now I do not yet know
which way it will go, only that I’ll probably be
upset either way. And I might regret telling him

not to bother today.

they think your best
is your worst. What matters is
you tried to very prying eyes
who wouldn’t have the nerve. They get

what they deserve. Do not care
their comments lack tact. They’re
backed by spineless monsters posing
as imposters. You keep doing you

undisputable. You’re beautiful because
you do what you love. And they’ll hate you
for it every time. The light you shine
blinds their stare. Do not care.

if I'm not the same
as you. If I hit a trigger examine it,
reflect a bit. Ask how I evoked
the response. Don’t ensconce

yourself in venom or stew. I haven’t
a thing over you. How can you live
if you can't forgive yourself for
the woman you are. Every star

shines. We don't
sparkle the same. Every woman
has a given name.

to my velvet black.
Grey is slack.
And I’m not that.

Don’t add white
to my fiery red.
Pink is girlie-
‘Nough said!

Don’t add white
to my dark navy.
Don’t do light.
I’m not chicken gravy!

It’s what happens to
everything. Don’t be afraid
to be in your own wrinkled
skin. We are taught very young

that youth is the only place
where we can bare it all. People
**** at all ages –
even well into their eighties! To think

its gross is just plain ignorant. I’m
here to tell you that age will never
be a factor in stopping me from
going what I’m after!

to say it! What will
he think? You’ll emasculate
him. He’s the one that should be
doing the pursuing. You play
hard to get. Make him chase after
it. Make him do all the work. You
sit back, look pretty and flirt. I’ve
heard it all before. And I don’t care
about what I’m supposed to do! So,
here it is –
I love you

Don’t Be Vapid

as the curtain drapes strung on the rod
above the window. They always move off to the side,
enough to let in the sunshine. Otherwise
they obstruct the view. There’s magic in this house

worth looking into. It’s in the kitchen
were last night’s grilled steak and onions permeating
the walls all the way into the hall
made your tongue saturate with flavor. You caught it

once again when it backed up in a hiccup. It’s in
your mother’s singing. And when she danced
on the table you couldn’t believe it supported her. She never
covers up herself or the furniture, unlike the drapes

that droop from their insipid position over the
living room window. They’re faded now to yellow,
looking more jaundice by the day. We could replace them,
bring in flowered ones. But that would be too feminine.

You spoke with him two days ago
You’re seeing him tomorrow

Don’t call him
He’ll think you’re a ****** mess
He knows me best

Don’t call him
Neediness is not attractive
I need a drink
I’m hyperactive
And still sporting yesterday’s hang-over

Don’t call him
You’ll turn him off
But I keep thinking about it non-stop

Don't you have any self-respect or pride
Kiss my ***
OK! I tried

He’ll get fed-up
Things will end
It’s not good to be dependent on a man
He’ll never be there for you again
No! they won’t
Yes! They will
Go have a drink –
Stop thinking
Still………….

as if I’m a distraction
in the middle of what
you’re doing. I’m not
your bladder that needs
emptying out.

Don’t call me
as part of your routine,
because I’m penciled in. And
it’s one more thing to do
before you retire for the
afternoon.

Call me
honey. Call me muffin,
dear, maybe cupcake. Call
me smiling. Call me laughing.
Because you’re thinking about me.
Sweet

as the cold, wet snow.
As the wind I must blow this leaf
to places even brief, I’d travel.
Don't walk on me; I'm not gravel.

Don’t cover me
as an orange peel,
holding me in my juice.
I must let loose.
And rip through the sky
as a long-necked goose.

Don’t cover me
in layers of blubber.
I’ll bounce back
I'm round rubber.
I won't wade in the muck.
Not again ladened down
and moonstruck.

out of guilt. She doesn’t want to be
your moral compass of fairness.

Don’t do it
out of pity. She doesn’t want you
to feel sorry for her.

Don’t do it
out of obligation. You don’t owe her
anything.

Don’t do it
out of one-upmanship. Aren’t you
better than this?

Do it
because you care for her. This –
and only this is the reason she’ll
accept it.

down
Fall Up

Don’t fall
flat
Fall full

Don’t fall
in
Fall out

Don’t fall
short
Fall long

You’re gonna fall
just learn to
do it the right way
is all

the rapids. Hold onto
happily ever after. Through each
disaster  you become stronger. I understand
you think you can't go on any longer -

but you do. You do because you have
to. You've been cut on those rocks. You've
been ****** down under and tossed until
you're skin is scraped and you bleed, and  your

fear is deep as the sea. Yet still you must
proceed. And if you will, I promise they'll be
rewards for you.

You can’t put on a light
and call it the sun.
You’ll never get warmed by a switch

You can’t put out your arms
and think you’ll fly.
You’ll never get wings by a wish.

You can’t paint up your eyes
if you’ve been crying.
You’ll never be happy by exterior coating.

Some days
no matter how hard you try
nothing is coming.

Don’t force it to happen.
Soon you’ll be dancing
when you realize that
nothing stays forever the same exact way
even if forever seems like years –
it will change

Don’t Get ****** Up

into the sands of another
Glistening/Reflective/Diaphanous
to see yourself passing through
the miniscule opening. Condensed in a droplet;

you’ll be the morning dew, clinging to
the blade. She’ll sharpen her teeth
on you. You’ll see her pockets as footholds. Only
to climb into something that gives

way. It’s easy to fall into quicksand. No one
to give you a helping hand. You’re sinking,
up to your neck in it. With due respect
I did warn you

before you stepped into the subterrain. It was
your biggest mistake. Tell me
before you lose consciousness
was it worth it? Was it worth all this pain?

in his lies
stuck just like
a trapped fly
caught in the spider’s web
strung out
on all he said

Don’t get tangled
on the rhetoric
like a deer tick
he’ll embed his head
on you
leaving you ill
like the flu

Don’t get tangled
in his arms
hell wrap you up
like a burrito
making you itch
like a mosquito

Don’t get tangled
on the baggage
he’s as dense
as a cabbage
you’ll be served cold
on the side
till you grow old
with no allies

Make them pay. Value
yourself. You’re worth as much
as anyone else. You work
as hard. No more freebies in

advance. If you want to watch
this woman dance you’ll have to
cough up a little dough. Or else
my darling, please go home!

to take away your joy
your hope for tomorrow
to leave you stranded and bitter
to make your heart fill with sorrow
so, you become a quitter
to leave you empty-handed
to never want to love again
to make you think you have landed
because they cut off your wings
no one person has this right to control you
The stars shine brightest in the darkest sky
If the stars above me can so can I