mine wouldn't sell

sometimes i wonder
when i see you trying so hard
pushing and promoting
trying to squeeze dollars
from your words,
is it so wrong
i give mine out for free
or possibly
my thoughts aren't
worth the effort.
these words here
on this page
i guess i see them as
a gift, that i shove
down their throats.
oooh.
maybe someone
would pay extra for that.
the shoving, i mean.
some people are into that sort of thing.
(making evil plans)

mailing it

he's sleeping
finally, and i grab
the half size envelope
and keys,
open the rarely used
front door,
emerging through
a curtain of moths.
it's unnecessary,
the letter,
although the postage
is hardly wasted.
sometimes letters
just need to be mailed
if only for that purpose.
my cigarette won't light
until i'm there at the
mailbox cluster
there at the end of the street,
it's hardly smoked
by the time i disappear
back through the moths
at the door, home.
it was nothing i couldn't have said,
you know,
in person.
but sometimes words
are sweeter that way.

things i've learned

ferrets are illegal
in 2 states.

leaving contact lenses in
for, say...
3 months at a time
can cause scarring
of the eyeball.

expect nothing
from anyone.
no one likes to
live up to another's
expectations.

cutting an earthworm
in half
will not make two worms.
it just makes a shorter worm.

do not go on and on
about your personal life
to complete strangers.
your life is only
that interesting
to YOU.
unless they ask,
they don't care.

sometimes
you have to be
an asshole
to get your point across.
especially with the phone company.

no matter who says otherwise,
lighting a match
WILL
get rid of that smell.

never lie.
it will catch up to you
at the most
inopportune time
and you will be worse off
than you would've been
had you just
told the truth
in the first place.

do
not
put a bra
in the dryer.
it warps.

trampoline day

i awoke from the most
uncomfortable dream
relieved, i'm at home.
i am me.
nothing so awkward
and unnatural
is going to happen today.

i ate and showered and sat.
the sitting might have
been a mistake, the stopping.
every distraction
became unbearable, and i
noticed that when i become
agitated
sometimes i growl, audibly
like a cross between
a kitten and chewbacca.

it took strawberries and
honeydew to settle me down
mixed together, all juicy and
colorful, what better food
is there, so complimentary
and healthy, like an edible
work of art.

the dr. phil.
i don't EVEN want to remember
that part of my day.
why did i watch??
mustache is evil!!

phone call from mom
happy jibber jabber
hummingbird moths
staples commercial
lifted my spirits
when she told me the
story of "anal achievement"
and her teenage
postal experiments.

it's like i'm on a trampoline
all day, up down up down
up down up down up down
up down up down up down
up down up down up...

ok,
you get the picture.

where's my apron and heels

"hah, suzy,"
she delighted over
the countdown to
crock pot beef stew
and the offhand comment
that i would like a
vacuum cleaner.
"what's happening in
Days of Our Lives?"
and she giggles when i
actually tell her.
"you watched it too,"
i say, (though she stopped
years ago),
"and that was okay,
'cause you're mom."
after which she points out
that i, too, am a mom
and i sputter and
stutter and
shut up because
she's right.

sunday school

what i remember
from the whole deal
was sitting behind a curtain
lining a table with
the other ten-year-olds
and i the only shy fidget
of the bunch
not willing to believe
what i was told
but more than happy
to recite matthew
mark luke john
yada yada yada
for a chance at that
pizza party
and really, what better
representation of heaven is there
than a large pepperoni?

good times, the best

the three of us huddled on the curb
by the antique shop, laden with
headphones and second hand love,
waiting for her mom's station wagon.

watching him finally leave
from my open upstairs window
the damp after-rain wind
drying the sweat to my skin.

out of my mind and high, sloppily
made up and long wild hair, grabbing
onto every human that appeared familiar
and squeezing out a thank you for being alive

pulling out of their driveway, late and
sleepy, full of mom's cooking, turning up
K's Choice with all the time in the world
to take it easy and drive home.

ode to my bath mat

why does my bath mat
pretend that it's a surf board
when i stand on it?

stick to the damn tub!
are you too good for the tub???
do your fucking job!

i stomp and i stomp
pray that the suction cups stick
but they never do

go to hell, bath mat,
making me fall on my ass
and bonk my elbow

one of these days, man
next time i fly out my tub
i'm suing walmart

meow

i have this off fascination
with the meow mix commercial
so that i jump and squeal
when i see it
i want a kitty
fuzzy friend to cuddle
nuzzle with my nose
and play catch the flashlight beam
(although the chasing
wears me out)
and get fur shed all over
my dark clothes
and feed terrible smelling
tuna-like food from a can
and clean up accidents
and friskies puke
from the rug
ok, nevermind.