study, cram, call, make plans...
power point, presentation, speech, rewrite...
theory, materialism and idealism and the difference,
Marx, Freud to psychoanalyze...
on to polynomials, linear equations, I make a scientific notation...
take a break. (eat)
ham sweet and thick
with lots of pineapple and some cherries
potato bread and cheese
PowerAde to rehydrate
little vodca with o.j. and cigarette  
after lunch, breathe .
and it’s back to study lab to mentally beat meat.
paper due, final today, did I remember to triple check
and get rid of paper clips, include a cover sheet...
ready to evaluate... I think.
ready to second guess, miss dates and time, "you're late"
again...
95, 98, 3.5 GPA? pre-test, for final, make sure your research is done,
site, source, quote, student rate and double space
power nap, smoke again,
is the day over yet?..

Traipsing through alleys,
Awash in an alcoholic glow,
We play Frogger,
Headed to our usual spot.

PBR's and Mai Tai's disguised as Powerade,
The night elapses
In a haze
Of elaborate bottle passes.

When I woke up my necklace was all tangled around my tank top. I miss when you were there to help me fix it. When I went to sleep, after many countless hours were spent tossing and turning, I wrapped my legs around a pillow and pretended it was you. My feet never warmed up like they would have on your back. When I went to make breakfast, I accidentally made 7 eggs instead of 2. Because I know you always want 5.  Walking out the door doesn't feel the same without you there to hug and kiss, while telling me to have a good day. Knowing I'll come home to an empty house, instead of coming home to you, makes the days go by even longer. When I go to the store today, I know I'll stop in the Powerade aisle just for you. I wonder when these habits will stop. You are everywhere, even though I haven't seen you in days. I miss you. Come home.

I'm not benching 290 for nothing
It's easier than cutting cake
More natural than breathing
Yet recently my shoulders
Are bearing to much
Unloaded all at one time
I'm caving in from head to toe
I don't need a spotter
I need old friends
The ones I turned to
When times got rough
When weights were over bearing
When I just wanted to rack the weight
Take a shower and drink a powerade
Yet they're gone
Nowhere to be found
Guess I'm all alone again
Suffocating tonight between the weight
And my blood stained pillow

Gritting my teeth to the chalk of a smile,
I ******* tongue-tied tipping
points of platitude and innocuous
glances. I’d like to take
a dip into the powerade
of an eye—poison
my electrolytes and throw
up the unconscious effort to keep it all
down. Bellow
the belly of this
bending in binary is the mending
of mind
body
and soul—the syrup to my cynicism.
I’ve been bundled
together tight enough to taste the tingle
of anticipation just before the
fall
into cool, quiet cotton
candy. I could scream if I cared
to. My madness mumbled and muttered
mulled through and muted—
passed from eye to mind—
mind to measure—
measure to mechanism.
The hum of
impetus. The creak
of rising action. The screech into
final release.I’d like to
plunge my plasticity in a pool of electricity—
singeing all but just the edges.
Rattling rails of self imposed righteousness.
Tattling tales of presupposed hypocrisy.
Only I can mold my moment
at the peaking of this pinnacle
to whatever my mind would
make it out to mean:
a death
a daredevil
a daydream.

Remember the way that
writing poetry used to be okay?
Your name was slowly inked upon my pages, our
pages, huh? And I strung so many words together, words to big to even fit
into my small silhouette of a girl. I put them together,
wonderfully, silently,
as you downed another sip of powerade and sat down
a little too close to me, and held onto my,
hand just to make sure I was still
okay. And I was. Just fine. All I thought
I wanted was you with me, and thats
exactly where you wanted to be.

But those books are gone, april’s poetry
should be burned and forgotten,
and our epilogue is this:
He left, and she spent the next months searching for his duplicate.

Mountain Dew
And purple Powerade
Ah!
What a delicious drink I have made!

Made it out the fire and brimstone,
Don’t need no Powerade,
because I never tire slim,
Told to run it in rather than run my mouth,
Be more like a Flintstone.
But **** it I’m a renegade,
Even if the tales grim,
Told to give up but that’s not what I’m about.
I prefer traversing the unknown!
Built different, that’s how I’m made!
So keep up the pressure,
Can’t ever make my inner desires dim!
I’m an underdog like Tiny Tim,
Because there have been days I’ve gone without!
And I’ve been degraded because of my skin tone!
And yeah there were days I wanted to fly away.
Days I wanted to expire, but when **** got dark I prayed and sang hymns.
The type slaves used to sing down south.
Till the day I’m set free and find shalom.

May we all find peace,
In this land of hell.
Even struggles can teach.
Just got to remove the veil.

May we all find nourishment,
In this land of hell,
Be careful not to be belligerent,
Cause you never if you’ll end up eating dollar store meals!