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FIGHT
it’s an interesting position; hallow super
woman. the push. the pull. the dishes sit in the sink.
when did the settling of dust on the shelves become so difficult; in the
absence of light, in the fading gray of night. the sun comes up.
every morning begins as soothingly as the last; lying in my bed.
the beginning. the end.
FLIGHT
beyond the point; beside belief. systems
so carefully instilled. banging on pots, banging on pans.
the mysteries of calling home unravel with the sound of your voice.
engrave the differences in your smile, the silver in your eyes.
attempt to reverse the “fix it gene.”
NESTING
resting on steel floors, place hands on hips,
on thighs, on lips. select a mask; who do i want to be tonight.
sitting on a dim stage before the audience takes their seats. alone
in my costume i wonder if they can see my eyes welling with tears.
in the dark, their faces glow. quit cleaning cages.
DOWN
sweet selective clown. i am awake, now
more than ever. under the weight of the world; under the shadows
of doubts, yours and mine. are shared moments all we have ever had?
the sun and the moon. the holy shit, what have you done now?
decline the invitation. descend the rafters. as free as you
want to be.
BOND
the center fold creature; cavernous beauty
yet to be revealed. finger chimes and drums. the unveiling;
biting my bottom lip and holding my breath. deep sleep between lines.
RESERVE
state the obvious. resurrect the past
and plunge, spiraling downward into the gray state of things, the status
quo. the pool of the moon. hold everything back. locked
tight. pms sucks.
questions of faith
and born again lies
tormented
tangled head
reverse compromise
promises
sound
in paradise
one
single word
single line
single sentence
single lie
how
am
i
doing
so
far
life and all of its wonderful twists has kicked my ass again, the blood
runs thick from my wounded head. kneeling to see the ground your
face is covered in dust
i am not hear
i am not hear
i am not hearing you
the manipulation of words
the tool
of the drama
will be our doom
the sidewalk crumbles
and modern man worries about leaving his mark on the world
so he will not be forgotten
so he will not be forgotten
have you forgotten me
forsaken me
shaken me
to fear my mind
to cringe at the sound if my voice
i have not
let it go that far
i have been gone
i will be strong
in this place
it sounds
SUBSCRIBE
hold out for the right answer. never
ask the same question twice. think backwards and you might understand.
the circles; my mind runs out of competition. the laps of confusion.
chemical imbalance. hormone therapy. a distant cycle of catch
phrase; procreation. do not think, do not pass go, do not collect
two hundred dollars. the reproduction of the patriarchy; the remaking
of motherhood. who will buy your magazines this time. the
corner of the market is getting smaller. the audience is growing
tired of the weary lies.
DIRECT
some how i started yelling. it’s a woman
thing. you don’t have to understand all of the cards you are dealt.
some things come with time; some never come. a bedside rook.
a sleep over pawn. the glass diamonds, counter productivity. who
said anything about the night in shining armor; no more burning men running
out of nowhere.
COVER
take off running through wild neural transmissions;
unmask each step. synapses fired. who asked for your opinion
anyway; what compelled you to interfere this time; interface. thank
you for coming; you made it just in time.
SUFFOCATE
feeling out side; miles from home. no
where is no where; are you always right? my dear, we need to be
more cautious with our feelings of discontent. is the washing machine
off balance; has the dishwasher over flown. who will be here to
clean up my mess when you are gone? what is the sum of our love;
do you think you have taught me enough; do you think you have learned
anything? be careful with your heart. back dive.
RELOCATE
renegade survivor of the american dream.
picket fences, cold snow, crab apple trees. the maze lays out before
glass eyes of sorrowful, soft tears; the frown that plagues your youthful
gaze and chills my every move, brings me closer to realizations.
there is a woman stinging under my skin; feels taught and red with anger.
remorseful groans that fell upon deaf ears and blind eyes; you move undulating
through tough words. my sighs mean nothing to you and yet you insult
and intrude. i sometimes wonder if our peace will come quietly or
if it will be a fight to the death.
my shoes
walk these
steps
face
behind
lost hope
my
makeup
reflects
the
mistrust
behind
my words
have
not
made
much
sense
i left you
behind
closed
doors
catch
her as
she pirouettes
REPOSSESSED
depart. misguided, mistrust. it isn’t
quite the life or death situation you make it out to be. what stars
were in your eyes standing alone in your birthday suit.
CONCORD
i am not going to run home every time life
becomes tiresome and strange. my affirmations are wrapped up in
tiny packages with pink bows, but my hands are tied and this time i can’t
reach with my teeth. the reverse stitching comes unglued; the comforting
spot on the bed falls apart at the seams.
IN
self help; stealth moves through urban legend.
pop rocks. the stereo types never fit our family of four.
the red marks on the page; what improvements can be made today.
peripheral vision. i have forgotten, i have become. the importance
of the fringe benefits. what is the rate of exchange; what do i
have to do? watch the doors open and close.
BELOW
lacing strands of hearts. racing; your
finish line seams farther and farther. what end to measure success,
or lack there of. a little bit of failure can kill; curiosity and
the cat. i was the pissy one who locked her self in her room.
you were the one who tried to hold everything together. borderline
mania; mild depression. tell it to the moon. i can’t remember shit.
RANCID
circular realizations; epiphanies and theories
lost. i am wondering when i will get it. the ethereal mannerisms,
the charisma, the charms. i do not expect to always be comfortable.
i don’t have an agenda to speak of; i eat my breakfast alone on the front
stoop and admire the water pooling in the street. i think someone
upstairs has been poisoning pigeons.
hope
dies
and every day
begins the same
the other voice
on the phone
rings
off
the
hook
i try not to lie
or disappoint
you with
my ever
changing
strings
swing on the trapeze
my
white
face
ok
what ever you say
i’ll put it on my list
it is
boarding
time
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