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.

poor mr. snowman

the snowman still stands
leaning harshly, waiting on
tomorrow's forecast

and for small hands to
give him another shot at
living till christmas

but it's sad to say
he'll be waiting forever
in an empty yard

out christmas will be
spent far away for this place
making new snow friends

leaving poor snowman
to tumble and melt in a
puddle of snow tears

more than me

i am not enough
i like to expand
beyond my limits
my life to
what could have been
in another time
or dimension
who i might have been
and suddenly i'm more
than a person
i'm infinite possibilities
lined up
and as i would pick
out my shirt from the
closet, who will i be
today.

bus stop

all the other kids wait
glued to their mothers' side
or talking about their new shoes
or pacing back & forth staring
at the kid  who won't stop doing
spiderman moves, won't stop moving
won't let his mother near him while
they are watching, his injuries
sustained during a ninja kick to the
stop sign, he refuses to show these to
the woman-girl who bore him, who carried
him in her own fucking womb while he
practiced same ninja kicks on her insides.
why is he the only one moving. why is he
the only one the other parents stare at
in disapproval before their eyes swing to
me, looking me up and down in that,
'well, no wonder' look.
i'll bet their child doesn't know
the names or 17 human bones.
i bet their kindergartner
doesn't know what animatronics is.
i look them up and down, at their clothes that scream
I AM A MOTHER! I WEAR PANTSUITS AND DR. SCHOLLS!
i think, "well, no wonder."
the sheep raise sheep
and i don't mind raising a wolf.

i draw like a 3 year old

squiggle lines, a mess
lemme start over, shake shake
stupid etch a sketch

playmate

her beauty came from
not within
or without (though she was)
but the girl
down the road
carrying barbies and
friendship bracelets,
caked with bonnie bell
and peel-off polish

dirt under her nails

two little girls
hushed, ducked
under unwatching eyes

into quiet
little girl play
into adult play
shhh

i thought i heard someone

while cyndi's voice
floats down
from the radio

girls just wanna have
fun

angst

I'll never wash clean of

the saltwater trail, like

snail tracks down my cheek

a badge of honor for the weak

I'm a freak for watching too 

close, too much, only want to 

know how touch would feel

make me reel, so dizzy for contact

lame, unsure how to act, no good at

this game anymore, so sure that

adore with seep through my pores

expose my soul where in secret grows

a weedy garden of needy prose, where

pleasure & pain flow like rain through

the dream cluttered gutters of my

brain, I scream a silent refrain of

mistakes through my dreams, where

everything I want seems so far away

on the highest shelf out of reach, I've

had to teach myself to wait, because

fate will deliver someday

Any Way He Can

 I breathe

forgiveness

into your mouth

my bruises aren't real

when I'm this far gone

I'm passed out alone

you take

what you want

with no one to stop you

I'm yours until dawn

now I can't pretend

I don't feel the pain

from your lying

and your hitting

when there's no bond

to hold you to me 

or make you stay

you only want

to use me when

you're this far gone

don't tell her

you say, before you

leave my bed, while

my head is reeling and

my legs are sore

you act for a 

week as if nothing

has happened before

the booze has you

begging for more

when i tell you no

I hope that it hurts

but it never makes

me feel that I'm

less of a whore 

so you took what you 

wanted and left me in

chaos before you 

walked out of

my door

OPEN

for you
i would turn on
the neon OPEN sign
hanging in the
window
of my heart

make it hurt

i want to meet you

in the dark 

dirty floor 

cold & dust

find my lips

across the space

dirty love

fear & lust

feel my panic

i feel your doubt

feel my feelings 

wanting out

feel your hands

across my skin

this little girl is

gonna sin

i want to touch you 

in the dark
cold as death
fill my lungs
taste the damage
to your heart
sugar sweet
on your tongue
take obsession
make it true
if only to be
under you
find my weakness
lift my skirt
show me love &
make it hurt