Hey great-grandma,
You haven't written in 7 years. My heart is hissing, what does that mean? Why won't it stop going so fast? It's beating the **** out of me, grandma. I can't keep up with it.

Dearest great-aunt,
Hey, where've you been? I've been stuck throwing up my lungs the last few weeks. Coffin shopping is a lot harder than it looks aunty.

Dear uncle,
You haven't even asked about my hospital trip. Nerve pain. Yeah, I'm okay, but I don't want to say "I love you" to my boyfriend tomorrow. No, he didn't do anything wrong. He just forces me to swallow antacids until my eyes roll back and I die. How long? A year and a half, we started dating February tenth. It snowed.

Hello me,
You haven't shown up in a while. Please call.

Love,
No Body

the night we camped in my car
in the backwoods of the city
I had an anxiety attack
so we drove to a gas station
got some water and antacids
slept in the bowling alley parking lot
woke up with ice covering the windows
it was only 28 degrees that night
but we slept safely and we slept soundly
because ******* it, we had each other
-

I called you and said
"Mom my chest hurts I can't walk, I can barely breathe."
I had never known so much pain
You didn't sound scared or worried
You simply asked questions
I responded as best as I could
You were silent and then told me to grab the antacids
You told me that you would call once you got to work
I waited for you to call, even though I felt better
You called back and I listened to your voice as the antacids melted my pain

Your voice always soothes me
Even when you are mad or screaming

Whenever I'm in pain
Whether it be a broken arm or heart
A dull ache in my back or head
The simplest touch makes me feel better

Even when you annoy me
And I just want to yell at you and say "Shut up."
You still make me feel better when you call me a good daughter

You gossip too much
And you talk too much trash
You overreact
You overprotect
You over do it
But you're my mom
And no matter what happens I know you will be there
Just one phone call and you'll pick up expecting the worst
But will be relieved by what I have to say
You won't be mad
You will just say "It will be okay"

Thank you

The triazolam is draining out.
Seeping down a peptic route.
Antacids disintegrate the lining.
Pain leaves me pinning.
Drowning on pink.
Spat up in the sink.
This sickness is wearing me thin.
Unsafe in my own skin.

Prescribed relief in the form of cold sweats.
Unapproved medicine tested on pets.
The rainbow pillbox comes in a set.
Getting wealthy off of the net.

Anemic royalty.
Sipping on Pennyroyal Tea.
Taking a drive to San Andres.
Dinning on mixed sangrias.
Bummed for a hit.
Blown…spit.
Complexion grows yellow.
The cost of my mellow.

Prescribed relief in a hospital bed.
Deaf to kind words said.
Can’t escape the notion in my head.
Telling me I’m already dead.

Loss of focus.
These drugs are bogus.
Light gradually fades away.
Soiled underwear, the thing to stay.
Soul ripped and torn apart.
Taken away on a crash cart.
Transfusion first, dialysis later.
Lack of a pulse, huge deflator.

Prescribed relief in the form of cremation.
Ceremony held, not a single relation.
No will left as a last proclamation.
Assets absorbed by a forfeiture corporation.

Bottle of Tums on the end-table
surrounded by an imprisoned fan;
a lava lamp of antacids, cornered by dead precious-metal presidents.
Some greying ceramic **** matriarch
has a bulb sprouting out of her head,
radiating fat yellow on the olive corner, also onto the loveseat.

I say, I should read.
I say, People don't like
  one another, anymore.
She says, I want to be a doctor.
Work with animals, she said,
Help pets and people.

Days go by like the shush
following blurs of traffic.
Am I aging too soon;
Am I important enough
  to care.

Try to sell me some
Pyramid Scheme ****,
the man my age does--
the kid--
He wants sixty-five for
off-brand perfume. No way.
How about, he looks around,
the manager's discount: twenty.
I say no. I'm sorry. I can't help you.
He says no. He's sorry. He can't help himself.

An American filmography:

A Thief in Brooklyn, 1997,
Dirk Diggler Productions,
A 20 y/o man breaks into
apartments, stealing pills
from the elder renters.

Ghost Before Sundown, 2003,
Marythrone Image,
A woman suspects she is
a ghost and tries to come to
terms with never succeeding
in life.

A woman
waits in line behind two kids
at the corner
7/11.

She watches them
take their candy,
get on their bikes,
and ride away.

She sets her Ramen
and antacids
on the counter

and half smiles
at the seventeen year-old
high school drop out.

Without making eye contact,
he tells her:
“$5.79”

She hands him the last
of her cash
with an apology.

As he opens the drawer,
she fumbles under her coat
and her trembling hand
pulls out the gun...

bad people do good things
and
good people do bad things
and
good people do bad people
and
on
and
on
you

open. a little. crack the spine of a bird to expand its wingspan. leave kisses along it's crown until it weeps and says: "i am a boy. i am a liberal. i'm a deist now. please believe me."
                     no. this wouldn't happen.

you open. a little. you meet up and exchange poetry. he says "what does this mean?" and your voice becomes cinders, burning in your throat. (it's about him. it's about things you can't say. it's about the bits he'd never understand even if this would happen. it's about the loathing pooling in your ******* and the dreams he'd reject, the feeling he left in you that feels a little like heartburn, the antacids you take and--)
                             no. this wouldn't happen either.

it's all wrong.

the library is open tonight, but you don't invite him to coffee. you look at your paltry sympathy and half-hearted methods of fixing things and tinker with them. you've torn up the paper. it cannot be returned. the case with him, the case with her -- this, this would happen again and again until you could get it right.

Ever been inspired beyond words?
Awed by the sunlight?
Licked delicately by the rain?
Breathed in deeply the sour green of the grass?

Ever plunged your fingers deep into a bin of beans?
Ran your fingers through hay?
Cried out under the stars?
Laughed at the wrong moment?
Or released with the wrong lover?

You are every ***** little tantalizing feeling ever.
You are the tingle deep in my bones.
You are burning me from the inside and I was naive enough to try and banish you with antacids.

You are that addictive feeling and I'm not sure that I can rid you
Or that I want to

We are a nasty little triffle
Yang and yang
We are the wrong side of the bed
We are Fire and air

We are poison
We are detriment
We are bound
I am bound
I am happy
You are my devil
You are sin
And I am your sin eater

And I will eat
And eat
And eat
Until we are both clean
Of each other

start the morning, glowing
that's a **** good cereal. don't ******* say suicide. because i know you don't mean it.
or you do.
i know you like this for all the wrong reasons i know i hate you more than you will get.i want you to get it- but you won't. it's a very narrow market,
it's a thin slippery window
and don't ******* center format
because it's time to grow up. you're not losing anything.children aren't
innocent.
just powerless.
the killing comes with experience.
*****-deep in the way you drown in it. it's better for both of us if you
figure it out.

modesty
is the ****-bait of the world.industry is booming. it's been a long day,
binders
break their spines for lovers.bent-
up. gas in the lawnmower. don't care about television. shredded antibiotics- fist full of antacids.  get
god
the **** out of here.
it's all we can do, to stay grounded.
it's
not meant to save anyone.it's not about moral superiority. its's not about being an ***.
immorality is an applied concept. amorality
is more like it.
because mother teresa was a *******.
if i had more time i'd write you a ******* song.
and the kid next to you in class was a *******.
and the killer was a *******.
and
it's all we can do, to get the hell out of here and
slide
into something a bit more comfortable.you
like
different music than i do.we
drown
in it together. like everyone else_let's hate things while i hate you.let's
plow through it all, willfully
and sensitive.

we ate the years.

Had Ramen at 2 in the morning and overdosed on iron
No joke went to the hospital and was flushed out.  Prescribed stool softener and antacids,
Sat in the gown and watched the light with a ***** in my arm. Irradiated light blasted my belly, an xray of a hoof. I drank a throat number and spat out pellets then was pushed around in a chair by a fine Latina. Then pushed in the cold. I still wear my bracelet and walked to the car. An emergency was the run over drunk on the road with its brain pushed in. I blasted Sigur ros and Celtic frost . Then the sun rose like a rose.