Poetry
seven
Born in Florida
I come from the dirt
shitted mud in the south
I am the wet-nap
on the door handle
of the gas station bathroom
Piss down out an open tunnel
-
I dreamt I was there
finally going to
TAKE YOU DOWN
Expose your
lying debaucheries
I ran so fast
I almost
beat the rain
in trance
you almost
beat me again
NOT THIS TIME
clutching my truth I
pissed the bed to awake-
oh, the pleasure
to hunt you
open eyed
Call time 4pm to fix my stolen right bicycle break
I am not your dream
girled into woman-
womaned into what/
time- timed tilt the scale, I only
feel gendered
when sex is sexed between thighs wide
open a solitude
compromised
from a distance she held everything
it slipped salted through fingers and
cracked summer heated lips
circular contoured contorted body
return to the fetal position
over turned
emptying inside city
outlined in apartment
lay awake awaiting
nothing
she is safe lit- road flares in her back pocket
released
what side of the bed do you sleep on?
‘I called you 15 times’
which can only mean
I didn’t answer 15/
times this moment became
this afternoon became
the night and night the morning
on the 16th ring-
it was 9pm but I told you it was 7 in the morning
for today, from last night
-
laura left it open- a star shooting star
down or letting it go
to watch it watch in time change color
personal private woman relieved in revelation
time can move closer to her and on
the scent of
the scent of secreting fire
in her womb
excite the joy of fresh spirit born
lover lady love all around you
delight in the light of your discourse
we should all do what we love to do.
it’s still July again for the 37th time
arranged in a whores anger, flexed
open legged bent
knees to bed, words to paper
my courtesan who never stayed
never arrived-
in weak stomach stamped with food
i’m so bored of it all
salt the rice with tears
somehow, it’ll all taste better
chained at birth
pull my hair around my throat-
my own self chokes-
hold what freedom I have left,
my worldly accomplishment-
Number One Whore
when you lie, you never kiss my lips
lips dry I speak
lips dry I scream
lips dry I pull my panties up to piss
No question-
knowing myself- a child childed
poor white
trashed in society
-
on billboards
I remember word shapes before I could read them
on television
hating the Pillsbury dough boy because he was to outlive me
love
watching
fantasizing
about who someone was
and how they dress in the mirror
I can’t remember eating the chicken
just its fried skin
there was a caterpillar tree in Texas
there was a long drive to Florida
there was filling water into empty flower pots
and standing in them to escape the humidity
there was an eye in the hurricane
there was the sun that came out
there was the calm in the world
the day when the days only babbled chaos
it became havoc
And stayed
a life with nothing
but this
doing this
from the 80s
until now
nocturnal
introverse tomorrow
katherine asked it 5 times
who it was
and it never answered-
i stared at it for a week-
its black dust dusted
back staring at me
a field pulled magnetic
love loving the magnetic pull
out/i wish/i could/i live forever
so "tired of myself"
she says to the camera-
i thought this morning
i had it all
then in the water filled tub
i felt like nothing
the dust dances like caterpillars
soundscapes sounding them
in unison to motion
i stop motion film
i stop motion film
i stop motion film
them stop motion
never
can i sleep
when i am tired
