Sending poetry to the world
girlhood crush, regressing,
he now seems
that one cool boy who sleeps
through philosophy
(the intro class)
with the teacher who
never turns around
unless that dream of falling
snaps the boy awake
with a crash
he seems now
a distant pair of eyes
compelling me
to learn a secret – lean in.
despite such a lyrical stance
he cares nothing for me
he cares only for a hurried
quickening breath
or the still life
of a sparrow who turns,
examining the ground
he does not care for my
pen hovering
or my sudden lack of trying
although he does suffer
(as we must)
finding words to create
this…
_____.
scattered and devasted
like how glass feels
after a break-in
shatters the street
it is –
the aftermath
that counts.
train station waiting on the last
late train
woman in beehive
and daisy dukes
while another in
impossibly tall shoes long eyelashes batting at
the pretty men
business travelers
wearing a path in the floor
how they tour
and turn
making deals with the air itself
and Amtrak personnel
create a new sign
yawns
and how the screeching never stops
yet it’s never right
and how the light
reflects
another group of models in beehive
so fitting before a trip
back to Baltimore
and how the light reflects.
everything you repeat
you believe;
everything you believe
becomes real.
begins when i slam
the door with “this is over”
again
and you cry and beat
your fists
takes a turn when
i slam vodka shots, drive
cross eyed
and wait out your
return
begins when you let
me back in
and we whisper gently
let’s lay quiet
awhile
all this travel
and the world slips
back in line with
stars
splintered dock where the black waves
lap close to my splintered feet
and crash just a bit white and
a few feet below me
[you aren’t there]
but one man tried to kiss, hold and grab
before i shoved and clawed
and ran on splintered toes
tippy toeing and ballerina-like
jumping back in the sky
you would say
i was drunk again
tequila shots and beer
muddling up what was meant to be
and not.
how in my mind
i would see myself a dancer
behind a curtain
black dark curtain sky
in my mind
i’m the pretty “can’t take your eyes off”
woman, not girl,
but again all this travel
and lack of sleep
makes me crazy
look at how the sand
reminds me to
take shoes off. lay softly still.
forget about you.
above in steel it
is ws g90 cs/b
it’s granular and upside down.
it means nothing to me, this me
head thrown back,
headache pinching one side.
florescent lighting affects the metal
and creates a ripple effect
i start to see patterns
numbers – letters – squares.
i notice the ws repeat
i see the secret messages and the meaning
is pinching my brain.
my neck stiffens
but i don’t look away.
the world relies on my ability
to decipher the code
soon the walls will fall to the side
and before the darkness
i will rise in victory.
sway soft like a young
girl’s dress. we roll on mindful
of trees and the gap.
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