The Static Nature of It All
I wake up in a house full of trash And eat some cheese before I go out in the heat Everything just doesn’t move When you can’t make it to Another day, another let me think about this But you don't call you don’t write you don’t care You don’t want to see me I want to see you so bad But what is the trees that give shade Even in my own voice I am calming But what are the glowing yellow bunnies I kick around You know what is going on Still you stand there stand there Even though I am the [...]
My husband didn’t like his mantra. “Shirim” or “Shring” or “Schwing,” something to that effect. My own mantra was much longer. “It is only money.” I chanted it in the shower. I whispered it into a mussel. I shouted it from the fire escape to the ramheaded gargoyle across the street. I think you’re doing it wrong, my husband said. Your eyes should be closed and you shouldn’t be shouting. I ignored him and continued my diatribe, shaking my fists at greedy little ghosts. You don’t control me, money! No, you don't! Then I went inside and fried up a $50 bill with sauerkraut and ate it with a [...]
I came from winter in the north to summer in the south. Does that follow?
The plaza turned pink with flowers as though a goddess were expected by evening. I waded through the pools of perfume
and passed the empty steakhouse where two busboys were kissing on a table full of folded napkins.
Time had begun again.
A crowd gathered at the city limits: women on foot and a brown girl-cow dragging her rope in the foul crook of the curb. The flat bone between her eyes
shone like a plate of copper in the sun. The border patrolman waved her back with his [...]
The Star-Spangled Turban
Hot pink frosting on my chocolate- cupcake noggin,
switched-on lightbulb- yellow, tulip- bulb topheavy
orange, sky-blue, bruise-blue, navy thought cloud, darkening:
Any towel, any shawl will serve as well to
bind this open wound atop me, mark me off as
not quite level- headed, tops on any watchlist.
It’s Old Glory that I choose this time: I pleat her,
sweep her, set her on my head as reverently as
any U.S. M.C. honor guard triangle
on a coffin.
I have too many bones in my feet and I have too many teeth in my mouth and I put too much clout in follower count and you, my belly my lemon my grove
This house is split by computer cables This house has tables that drop every plate This house is thigh-chafed sun-spoilt and Christ-cradled and you, my wet mozzarella my love
And you, sugar pill pilled sweater sweet jam And you, my jelly meat suckled and shorn And you, my kill and my kill and my kill and my
City’s dumpling makers all went on strike My city is spite gold brass Stoli commercials My city is [...]
Dixie Pixie Sonnet
Solar panel, a Fresnel lens, 5 lb bag of M&Ms & we could 3-D print a clone of you
Pell mell all hell & ill will will break loose If you don’t wear your cheap synthetic, frilly fuchsia princess dress, Faux glass high heel sequin slippers clacking on the tile
In your lifetime, the Arctic will have been
You’re a frog no you’re a frog
To conjugate in a future imperfect : will have been ongoing, once
Daughter you’re borderline pixilated, perhaps from the Swedish dialect pyske— “fairy,” ca. 1630—or Cornwall Celtic for “pixie-led” : confused, bewildered, unbalanced, astray ; or an actress as stop-motion marionette, in [...]
on film, it’s a fountain lit from behind erupting or a story-high wave’s motion barely foiled by indifferent coastline. that is, always water, always upward then the inevitability of gravity, always light then always less light.
not in the movie, what is bright is internal. usually in a dim room, though sometimes pitch dark, the brightness can never be seen.
perhaps that’s its source of power: an unseeable phantom with unmistakable presence, a presence that violates the peace of the body then leaves, abruptly, only an asymptotal approach to numbness we call linger.