I’m shirtless after
getting too hot in the best kitchen stool spot
It’s where the dog will leave me alone for a sec
It’s a weird winter
every year now, but they say the Great Lakes are
the best place to ride climate change out
It’s been too cold, now it’s getting too hot for this time of year
so the old Watkins Glen hoodie was too much
I almost ripped the front neck like an 80s girl
but I didn’t have the strength
If walks are still out of the question,
I better start doing physical comedy
around the house like Three's Company because
I said I was going to

We could have had it all
we still could
We reached peak performance
we almost reached Star Trek replicators
The whole world enjoying life saving advancements
over a hundred years
Only for it to decline for the first time
instead of just sabotaged into a slowdown like before
Those billionaires want to stay relevant
Even though they’re beyond useless
They’re a detriment to our democratic progress
just to preserve their status as economic royalists
who decry the decline of Victorian social deference

Remember Kurt Vonnegut talking about his school
in the era of almost proficient public funding?
He was excited to have a jazz band
Until these types of things were deemed unimportant
for those who may need them most

Now we have the technology to exceed the speed and competence
of the 80s, 90s, and aughts
but the the profit motive just gets stronger and more depersonalized
We’ll teach them to fish by killing them all

Husks of graffiti-covered factories
melt into the industrial wasteland
like dried-out scarab beetles clinging to the Sphinx.

The pioneers who pushed up the buildings
might have believed in a limitless potential for the city as they applied a dream tourniquet,
then injected their sales pitch
into the collective stream-mind:
polished rims, leather interior, dual exhaust,
the rumble of supercharged hormones
awkwardly fumbling with buttons, clasps
and zippers in the back seat,
while drive-in speakers crackle; the sunset
is crimson-cheeked from watching how unashamedly night spreads herself open,
showcasing the void between her thighs,
and how cold the stars can sometimes seem

from a distance.

Fate was reflected in the rearview mirrors of cars named after the city's founder,
who, 200 years prior, had been called a scoundrel and, "...the most wicked man in the world."

The vehicles helped propel mass ambitions  
towards highschool romance, employment at the factories, 2.5 children, electric ranges, flamingo lawn ornaments, Sunday drives after church, followed by an afternoon cocktail,
two for the Missus;
all of it made in America,
by Americans,
for Americans.

Then it stopped.

The ghost of that energy can still be felt
haunting buildings left hollow by the foreclosures and bankruptcies
of cursed business, haunting litter-strewn streets that resemble a shanty found in any nowhereville, anywhere, third world conditions wedged into the first.
Do the addicts in the crack-shacks,
or the johns who prowl beneath a burned-out neon moon that hangs above a doorway on Clark Avenue,

feel the ghost of that energy?

Sometimes it is barely discernible
as it waits to puncture veins
and inject its poison—
a redesigned drug
made from ancient origins—
while motor-music echoes
between lithium-grey walls,
ears weighed-down  

with memories of chrome.

Learn to write again
learn to type right
first time in 3 decades of life

I want to write closer to when I think
speed time, to slow it
make it feel like I do more
like I was in my teens or early twenties
****, these days 3 go by and it feels like one

I count my blessings to build confidence
Life grows more cruel but
I might win if I act like already won
Chaos magick, nay we do not speak of it

You forgot to pretend
to suspend quests for rationality
No longer moved by a book or film
We conditioned to be unconditioned
only to realize we ought to been wistfully in the herd
the whole time  
We're the Bodhisattvas forestalling enlightenment
to get drunk with the butchers
after decades of sober high ground
We're the over-analyzers
lamenting our anachronisms in self-assuring
new philosophies
Either fully embrace one or drop out of being smart at all
the only tolerable choice to start to enjoy life again
No, no it's a false dichotomy
I want to be the eternal well-wisher
no matter the decadent displays

The shared dream of a soon to be future
We scavenge and defend
through pockmarked streets
make shelters amid crumbling concrete
We forgot how to imagine a secure society
Measured expectations and social safety nets
they took it all away along with our balanced serotonin
I used to get all jazzed up over a library book
but now the images promise us much more bliss
right around the corner

But it never soothes
never comes close  
We cannot buy the contentment you claimed to offer
so we'll get it in collapse
We'll be sniped, starved, and deranged
but the thought of that life
makes us whisper excitedly to ourselves
"finally something has happened to me."

I, the eternal well-wisher
will wag no more fingers at preachers of death
Neither will I become them nor pity them

Alas sais y medya na ng umaga nang makauwi si Natividad mula sa bahay ng kanyang amo. Pagkababa n’ya ng maliit na bag na laman ang kanyang cellphone at wallet na merong labin-limang libo at iilang barya ay marahan siyang naglakad tungo sa kwartong tinutulugan ng kanyang tatlong anak. Hinawi niya ang berdeng kurtina at sumilip sa kanyang mga anghel.
Babae ang panganay ni Natividad, o di kaya’y Vida. Labindalawang taong gulang na ito at nasa Grade 7 na. Isa sa mga malas na naabutan ng pahirap na K-12 program. Ang gitna naman ay sampung taong gulang na lalaki at mayroong down syndrome. Special child ang tawag nila sa batang tulad nito, pero “abnormal” o “abno” naman ang ipinalayaw ng mga lasinggero sa kanila. Ang bunso naman niya, si bunsoy, ay kakatapak lamang ng Grade 1. Pitong taong gulang na ito at ito ang katangkaran sa mga babae sa klase nito. Sabi ng kapwa niya magulang ay late na raw ang edad nito para sa baiting, pero kapag mahirap ka, mas maigi na ang huli kaysa wala.
Nang makitang nahihimbing pa ang mga ito ay tahimik s’yang tumalikod at naglakad papuntang kusina. Ipagluluto niya ang mga anak ng sopas at adobong manok. May mga natira pa namang sangkap na iilang gulay, gatas, at macaroni na galing pa sa bahay ni Kapitan noong nangatulong siya sa paghahanda para sa piyesta. Bumili rin siya ng kalahating kilo na pakpak ng manok, kalahating kilo pa ulit ng atay ng manok, at limang kilo ng bigas.
Inuna niya ang pagsasaing. Umabot pa ng tatlong gatang ang natitirang bigas nila sa pulang timba ng biskwit kaya ‘yun na lang ang ginamit niya. Pagkatapos ay agad niya rin itong pinalitan ng bagong biling bigas.
De-uling pa ang kalan ni Vida kaya inabot siya ng limang minuto bago nakapagpaapoy. Siniguro niyang malakas ang apoy para madaling masaing. Kakaunti na lang kasi ang oras na natitira.
Habang hinihintay na maluto ang kanin ay dumiretso na sa paghahanda ng mga sangkap si Vida. Siniguro niyang tahimik ang bawat kilos para maiwasang magising ang mga anak. Mas mapapatagal lamang kasi kung sasabay pa ang mga ito sa kanyang pagluluto.
Habang hinahati at pinaparami ang manok ay patingin-tingin s’ya sa labas. Inaabangan ang inaasahan niyang mga bisita.
Mukang magtatagal pa sila ah. Ano na kayang balita? Dito lamang naikot ang isip ni Vida sa tuwing nakikitang medyo normal pa sa labas.
May mga potpot na nagbebenta na pan de sal at monay, mga nanay na labas-masok ng kani-kanilang mga bahay dahil tulad niya ay naghahanda rin ng pagkain, at mga lalaking kauuwi lamang sa trabaho o siguro kaya’y galing sa inuman.
Tulog pa ata ang karamihan ng mga bata. Mabuti naman, walang maingay. Hindi magigising ang tatlo.
Binalikan niya ang sinaing at tiningnan kung pupwede na bang hanguin.
Okay na ito. Dapat ako magmadali talaga.
Dali-dali niyang isinalang ang kaserolang may laman na pinira-pirasong manok.
Habang hinihintay na maluto ang manok ay paunti-unti rin siyang naglilinis. Tahimik pa rin ang bawat kilos. Lampas kalahating oras na siyang nakakauwi at ano mang oras ay baka magising ang mga anak niya o di kaya’y dumating ang mga hinihintay n’ya.
Winalis niya ang buong bahay. Maliit lang naman iyon kaya mabilis lamang siyang natapos. Pagkatapos ay marahan siyang naglakad papasok sa maliit nilang tulugan, kinuha ang lumang backpack ng kanyang panganay at sinilid doon ang ilang damit. Tatlong blouse, dalawang mahabang pambaba at isang short. Dinamihan niya ang panloob dahil alanganin na kakaunti lamang ang dala.
Pagkatapos niyang mag-empake ay itinago niya muna backpack sa ilalim ng lababo. Hinango niya na rin ang manok at agad na pinalitan ng palayok na pamana pa sa kanya. Dahil hinanda niya na kanina sa labas ang lahat ng kakailanganin ay dahan dahan niyang sinara ang pinto para hindi marinig mula sa loob ang ingay ng paggigisa.
Bawat kilos niya ay mabilis, halata **** naghahabol ng oras. Kailangang makatapos agad siya para may makain ang tatlo sa paggising nila.
Nang makatapos sa sopas ay agad niya itong ipinasok at ipinatong sa lamesa. Sinigurong nakalapat ang takip para mainit-init pa sakaling tanghaliin ng gising ang mga anak.
Dali-daling hinugasan ang ginamit na kaserola sa paglalaga at agad ulit itong isinalang sa apoy. Atay ng manok ang binili niya para siguradong mas mabilis maluluto. Magandang ipang-ulam ang adobo dahil ma-sarsa, pwede ring ulit-ulitin ang pag-iinit hanggang maubos.
Habang hinihintay na lumambot na ang mga patatas, nakarinig siya ng mga yabag mula sa likuran.
Nandito na sila. Hindi pa tapos ‘tong adobo.
“Vida.” Narinig niyang tawag sa kanya ng pamilyar na boses ng lalaki. Malapit niyang kaibigan si Tobias. Tata Tobi kung tawagin ng mga anak niya. Madalas niya ditong ihabilin ang tatlo kapag kailangan niyang mag-overnight sa bahay ng amo.
“Tobi. Andito na pala kayo,” nginitian niya pa ang dalawang kasama nitong nasa likuran. Tahimik lang ang mga itong nagmamasid sa kanya.
“Hindi pa tapos ang adobo ko eh. Ilalahok ko pa lang ang atay. Pwedeng upo muna kayo doon sa loob? Saglit na lang naman ‘to.”
Mukhang nag-aalangan pa ang dalawa pero tahimik itong kinausap ni Tobi. Maya-maya ay parang pumayag na rin ito at tahimik na naglakad papasok. Narinig niya pang sinabihan ni Tobi ang mga ito na dahan-dahan lamang dahil natutulog ang mga anak niya. Napangiti na lamang siya rito.
Pagkalahok ng atay at tinakpan niya ang kaserola. Tahimik siyang naglakad papasok habang nararamdaman ang pagmamasid sa kanya. Tumungo siya sa lababo at kinuha ang backpack.
Lumapit siya sa mga panauhin at tahimik na dinaluhan ang mga ito tapos ay sabay-sabay nilang pinanood ang usok galing sa adobong atay.
“M-ma’am.” Rinig niyang tawag sa kanya ng kasama ni Tobias. Corazon ang nakaburdang apelyido sa plantsadong uniporme. Mukhang bata pa ito at baguhan.
“Naku, ser. ‘Wag na po ganoon ang itawag niyo sa akin. Alam niyo naman na kung sino ako.” Maraan niyang sabi dito, nahihiya.
“Vida. Pwede ka namang tumanggi.” Si Tobias talaga.
“Tobi naman. Parang hindi ka pamilyar. Tabingi ang tatsulok, Tobias. Alam mo iyan.” Iniiwasan niyang salubungin ang mga mata ni Tobias. Nararamdaman niya kasi ang paninitig nito. Tumatagos. Damang-dama niya sa bawat himaymay ng katawan niya at baka saglit lamang na pagtingin dito ay umiyak na siya.
Kanina niya pa nilulunok ang umaalsang hagulhol dail ayaw niyang magising ang mga anak.
“Vida…” marahang tawag sa kanya ng isa pang kasama ni Tobi. Mukhang mas matanda ito sa Corazon pero halatang mas matanda pa rin ang kaibigan niya.
“Ano ba talaga ang nangyari?”
“Ser…Abit,” mabagal niyang basa sa apelyido nito.
“Ngayon lang po ako nanindigan para sa sarili ko.” garalgal ang boses niya. Nararamdaman niya na ang umaahon na luha.
“Isang beses ko lang po naramdaman na tao ako, ser. At ngayon po iyon. Nakakapangsisi na sa ganitong paraan ko lang nabawi ang pagkatao ko, pero ang mahalaga po ay ang mga anak ko. Mahalaga po sila sa’kin, ser.” mahina lamang ang pagkakasabi niya, sapat na para magkarinigan silang apat.
“Kung mahalaga sila, bakit mo ginawa ‘yon? Vida, bakit ka pumatay?”
Sasagot n asana siya ng marinig niyang kumaluskos ang banig mula sa kuwarto. Lumabas doon ang panganay niyang pupungas-pungas pa. dagli niya itong pinalapit at pinaupo sa kinauupuan niya. Lumuhod siya sa harap nito para magpantay sila.
“Anak. Good morning. Kamusta ang tulog mo?”
“Good morning din, nay. Sino po sila? ‘Ta Tobi?”
“Kaibigan sila ni ‘Ta Tobias, be. Hinihintay nila ako kasi may pupuntahan kami eh.” marahan niyang paliwanag, tinatantya ang bawat salita dahil bagong gising lamang ang anak.
“Saan, nay? May handaan po uli sina ser?” tukoy nito sa mga dati niyang amo.
“Basta ‘nak. Kunin mo muna yung bag ko doon sa lamesa, dali. Kunin ko yung ulam natin mamaya. Masarap yun, be.”
Agad naman itong sumunod habang kinukuha niya na rin ang bagong luto na adobo. Pagkapatong sa lamesa ng ulam ay nilapitan niya ulit ang anak na tinitingnan-tingnan ang tahimik na mga  kasama ni Tobias.
“Be…” tawag niya rito.
Pagkalingon nito sa kanya ay hinawakan niya ang mga kamay nito. Nagsisikip na ang lalamunan niya. Nag-iinit na rin ang mga mata niya at nahihirapan na sa pagbuga ng hangin.
“Be, wala na sina ser. Wala na sila, hindi na nila tayo magugulo.” ngiti niya rito. Namilog naman ang mga mata nito. Halata **** natuwa sa narinig.
“Tahimik na tayo, nay? Hindi na nila kakalampagin ang pinto natin sa gabi?”
“Hindi na siguro, anak. Makakatulog na kayo ng dire-diretso, pangako.” Sinapo niya ang mukha nito tapos ay matunog na hinalikan sa pisngi at noo. ‘Eto na ang matagal niyang pinapangarap na buhay para sa mga anak. Tahimik. Simple. Walang gulo.
“Kaso, ‘nak, kailangan kong sumama sa kanila.” Turo niya kayna Tobias. Nanonood lamang ito sa kanila. Hawak na rin ni Tobi ang backpack niya.
“May ginawa kasi si nanay, be. Para diretso na ang tulog natin at para di na tayo guluhin nina ser. Pramis ko naman sa’yo be, magsasama ulit tayo. Pangako. Bilangin mo ang tulog na hindi tayo magkakasama. Tapos pagbalik ko, hihigitan ko pa ‘yon ng maraming maraming tulog na magkakasama na tayo.”
“Nay…” nagtataka na ang itsura ng anak niya. Namumula na kasi ang mukha niya panigurado. Kakapigil na humagulhol dahil ayaw niyang magising ang dalawa pang anak.
“Anak parang ano lang ito…abroad. Diba may kaklase kang nasa abroad ang nanay? Doon din ako, be.”
Bigla ay nagtubig ang mga mata ng panganay niya. Malalaking butil ng tubig. Hindi niya alam kung naniniwala pa ba ito sa mga sinasabi niya, o kung naiintindihan na nito ang mga nangyayari.
“Itong bag ko, andiyan yung wallet at telepono ko. Diba matagal mo nang gusto magkaroon ng ganon, be? Iyo na ‘yan, basta dapat iingatan mo ha. Yung pera be, kay Tata Tobias mo ihahabilin. Habang nagtatrabaho ako, kay ‘Ta Tobi muna kayo.”
“Nay, hindi ka naman magtatrabaho eh.” Lumabi ang anak niya tapos ay tuluyan nang nalaglag ang luha.
Tinawanan niya naman ito. “Sira, magtatrabaho ako. Basta intayin mo ‘ko be ha? Kayo nina bunsoy ko, ha?” Hindi niya napigilang lambing-lambingin ito na parang batang munti. Kailangan ay sulitin niya ang pagkakataon.
Paulit-ulit niya itong dinampian ng maliliit na halik sa mukha, wala na siyang pakealam kung malasahan niya ang alat ng luha nito. Kailangan ay masulit niya ang natitirang oras.
“Nay, sama po ako. Sama kami ni bunsoy. Tahimik lang kami lagi, pramis, nay. Parang kapag andito si ser, hindi naman kami gugulo doon.” Tuluyan na ngang umalpas ang hikbi niya. Naalala niyang muli ang rason kung ba’t n’ya ito ginagawa. Para sa tahimik na buhay ng mga anak.
“Sus, maniwala sa’yo, be. Basta hintayin mo si nay. ‘Lika ***** tayo doon sa kwarto, magbabye ako kayna bunsoy.” Yakag niya rito. Sumama naman ito sa kanya habang nakayakap sa baywang niya. Humihikbi-hikbi pa rin ito habang naagos ang luha.
Tahimik niyang nilapitan ang dalawa. Kinumutan niyang muli ang mga ito at kinintalan ng masusuyong halik sa mga noo. Bata pa ang mga anak niya. Marami pa silang magagawa. Malayo pa ang mararating nila. Hindi tulad ng mga magulang nila, ‘yun ang sisiguraduhin niya. Hindi ito mapapatulad sa kanila ng mister niya.
“Be, dito ka na lang ha. Alis na si nanay. Alagaan mo sina bunsoy, be, ha. Pati sarili mo. Ang iskul mo anak, kahit hindi ka manguna, ayos lang kay nanay. Hindi naman ako magagalit. Basta gagalingan mo hangga’t kaya mo ha. Mahal kita, be. Kayong tatlo. Mahal na mahal namin kayo.” Mahigpit niya itong niyakap habang paiyak na binubulong ang mga habilin. Wala na ring tigil ang pag-iyak niya kaya agad na siyang tumayo. Baka magising pa ang dalawa.
Nakita niya namang nakaabang sa pinto si Tobi bitbit ang bag niya. Kinuha niya rito ang bag at sinabihang ito na ang bahala sa mga anak. Baog si Tobias at iniwan na ng asawa. Sumama raw sa ibang lalaking mas mayaman pa rito. Kagawad si Tobias sa lugar nila kaya sigurado siyang hindi magugutom ang mga anak niya rito. May tiwala siyang mamahalin ni Tobias na parang sarili nitong mga anak ang tatlo dahil matagal niya na itong nasaksihan.
Pagsakay sa sasakyan kasama ang dalawang pulis na kasama ni Tobias ay saka lamang siya pinosasan ng lalaking may burdang Corazon.
“Kilala namang sindikato yung napatay mo, ma’am. Kulang lamang kami sa ebidensya dahil malakas ang kapit sa taas. Kung sana…sana ay hindi ka nag-iwan ng sulat.”
“Nabuhay ang mga anak kong may duwag na ina, ser. Ayokong lumaki pa sila sa puder ng isang taong walang paninindigan. Pinatay niya na ang asawa ko. Dapat ay sapat na ‘yon na bayad sa utang namin, diba?” kung kanina ay halo humagulhol siya sa harap ng mga anak, ngayon ay walang emosyong mahahamig sa boses niya. Nakatingin lamang siya sa labas at tinititigan ang mga napapatingin sa dumadaang sasakyan ng pulis.
Kung sana ay hindi tinulungan ng mga nakatataas ang amo niya. Kung sana ay nakakalap ng sapat na mga ebidensya ang mga pulis na ngayon ay kasama niya. Kung sana ay may naipambayad sila sa inutang ng asawa niya para pambayad sa panganganak niya.
Kung hindi siguro siya mahirap, baka wala siya rito.

They are stacks of mud--
Splattered filth on the curb
slowly rotting away
like debris of our own path.
Trampled upon leaves
and roadkill rabbits
that pass by our eyes
like the birds of the sky;
Forgotten people of time
and tragedy's aftermath.

Yet these wise wise fools
are happier than I,
the higher and mightier
Begotteb of a son.
Whom dwells in depression
Chained to a society
that feeds off of misery
and regretful deceit;
The comfort and contentment
perceived as luxury and success

For I see them smile
almost a daily occurrence,
as though a new sunshine
is enough of a reason to live zealously.
For I have not unwithholdingly
smiled in countless years,
yet these pitiful souls
have the ability to surpass my own
and thrive in the freedom of their hearts
whilst I suffer in the mundane of wealth.

spoke through the fire
we rode babylon 999
like school children making for the intersection
a horn blared
triumphant screech of capital
and we tumbled through the air
the last image reflected in our eyes
coca-cola no sugar

at the horizon of sleep
the empty palm of war stretches indefinitely
a profit-margin rounding the ennui of
all our profane martyrs and saints

history wreathed in the thorns of labour
the mistletoe we ****** beneath
putrid, damp, abject
mirror-images of our parents

and under the skylight of the mall
i found in you a whistling hole
where all the birds caught within
choked.

"that'll be thirty dollars" says the cashier
and I willingly hand him the money
knowing I could take my groceries and run

society has problems
but why is nobody willing to step up and fix them?
myself included

we all know we are bad people,
and we all know we are not willing to change.

with regard to those who believe time has let us down,
it is not our fault that we expected more in life than the
simple basic pay that we force ourselves to earn,
that only a minimal few get more than £4 an hour
and earn a million in a day
they take and they take and we give our all,
to a job that will eventually fire us, retire us and
dig our grave, all to provide ourselves
with a mortgage and a tax paying wage
that some of us can never afford,
and we **** ourselves because of debt and
we stare at our kids with resentment because
they’re
dream killers
but they’re a social norm, and if you don’t fit in
you don’t make it
social darwinism,
liberalism
conservatism,
socialists, Marxists, communists,
left wing advocates,
the ones the poor ‘take advantage’ of because
we believe people deserve the best chance in life,
and unless you’re incredibly lucky and
you’re born at the top
you are bred with that chance,
and the rest of us are at the bottom because
meritocracy
doesn’t
exist
it never will because those  
who believe they’re better,
the elite-born
who’re at the top come from the brightest schools,
the most expensive and they gave them
confidence and money
something we don’t own being in the northern region of a
divided country
and your prime minister killed our jobs and i find it funny that
people still vote for your two faced, pragmatic party
you haven’t been remotely interested in us since
Disraeli, but even he tried to help us selfishly
the working class,
the proletariat
is divided because of the lies you feed us
through the media,
you honestly think you’re superior
and you are
but you ignore poverty and you accept inequality
and society isn’t like a human body
because if it worked
this wouldn’t exist, this divided society that you
don’t even acknowledge because why would you
when you have enough money and power
and overall glory that you have been smothered in
your whole life whereas we have
seen what your policies achieve
and you try to buy us off with basic low wages and
give starving people benefits which take ages
to come through
and you don’t care when they die because
they weren’t employed,
didn’t belong in this capitalist economy,
which you gladly enjoy,
while we sit at the bottom in absolute despair,
that I don’t even know if we’re really aware
of the exploitation we are put through every single day
all to make enough money to pay
for the taxes you evade,
and i wish for the whole world there was something i could do,
because if i had any money,
i would share it with you.

I’ve walked on the tiles made for kings
many times I’ve been in the house of luxury
but it has never belonged to me
I am but a visitor in the palace of Eden
I could describe the opulence but I cannot tell you how it feels
to posses, to own, to carry your weight lightly in such states
I am not a beholder and I’ve never felt myself worthy of such affluent
and often unnecessary necessities
working class woman on the weekends
to clean the savvy bungalows of the ludicrous and almost laughable
wealth of Beverly Hills
it felt almost like trespassing, like jumping over train tracks
As soon as you see sight of headlights getting closer and the
earth beneath you tumble, shaking it’s veins
I would wear a uniform, a knight’s armor of invisibility
upon arrival, there was that shift in the air
That momentary feeling that you’re not in Kansas anymore
There are more trees here, the bugs even seem more alive than they did
down there below the hills
the pedestal of the hungry, greed sitting humbly on its’ throne
smoking expensive colored cigarettes
rings blowing in your face of cool breeze
Although every residence was architecturally different
it was always the same, the same austere patterns
the redundant originality, the commonplace pretension
The gates always had codes but the entrance was always open
Whenever you stepped inside the first thing to notice
were the Rorschach walls, the mirror image of whoever resided there
the hollowness it evoked, the sterility of a life that although lived
wasn’t honest
dare I say unhappy
There were usually film posters signed by movie stars long ago dead
Art that said nothing, whose lips had been glued shut by clean dollar bills
the brash ****** it tried to display lacked controversy in dusty rooms
the irony being that it had become everything it tried to displease
and yet I was envious
the violent comfort it imposed was far more inviting than
living in rations, in the poverty that ate at your skin
it was friendliness with a clenched fist, like the hostess at a
party that smiles too wide and moves her eyes too quickly
sloshing her champagne glass but never quite spilling it
I remember once stumbling upon one the owners of a house
she was sitting in a wheelchair, there were diamonds on the wheels
I thought I was meeting god for the first time
she looked like she had lived ten lifetimes, wearing fox fur around her neck
the paws resting defiantly on shaky shoulders
age spots congregating around her eyes like whispering spies
wrinkles weaving and unraveling from her forehead to her chin
small nose inhaling sharp gulps of smoke, dust, reason
she wore a translucent egg-shell colored gown
that cascaded like a waterfall down to her tiny feet
it was as transparent as her skin making her look like a
one of those see-through fishes
all organs and blood, bone with the marrow withering
her eyes were closed but she spoke, piercing the room
“so you’re the new girl. We don’t take kindly to strangers
so she must’ve thought you were trustworthy, but I know
someone’s true intentions. I can smell it. It’s a gift.
It’s always the foreigners that wear masks. That’s how
they survive and who can blame them I would do the same.
I’ve been all over the world; the tips of my boots have been
polished while there are others that fester like rats in their
own caves. I know the contempt they must feel, I’ve never
been held down by others more powerful than me and yet
I know that it only creates misunderstanding.
I didn’t ask for this. I earned this. All of this.”
She pointed around the room.
“I am the only one that can decide my fate. When you
want something bad enough it is given to you. Most
just want things for free. They want it handed
to them in a silver plate with a golden spoon. ****
will always shy away from the light because there
is a sickness in their brains that don’t let them see past
their disgusting oppression.
I assume since you haven’t interrupted, I take
your silence as a sign that you don’t believe what I am saying.
That this piece of advice has flown over you.
I very well could have written these words on a letter
at the bottom of a stack of mail that will never be opened and
that’s okay. I don’t expect you to believe to my truth.
But the emperor you see before you was not conjured out of dust
and thin air, I swear it.” She ended with an angry laugh.
I wanted to say that her environment was polluted with
cotton ***** and the furniture was contaminated with soot
and dead skin cells
that once everyone dies they turn into dirt, into
the sand from which we seemed to have been composed of
but I realized that she didn’t see herself as dying
Seeing her there in the dark room with the shades drawn
I realized if that’s what it took to become a god
I didn’t want to be any more than human
but all I said was
“ma’am your plants are in need of watering.”