.

.

.

...i am the fireworks...

.

.

.

Profanity

.

He smells of laundry detergent.

That smell could never escape me,

even my flaking skin

or my mother’s nite gown

falling like a bride’s veil

couldn’t mask,

couldn’t cover.

My eyelids iced shut

wouldn’t stop me from seeing the images-

(blurred, he moves in slow motion)

my dry lips rubbing together

couldn’t stop me from cursing his name-

(chapstick, devious witch spells I’m sure)

Arrogance is his, not mine,

Ignorance tackled him, not I-

.

              Upsetting news, the peach tree revives,

picking young untouched flesh.

It smells of nature,

is not artificial.

.

.

Snowflakes

.

Cutting snowflakes,

The smooth flawless surface

severed by jagged metal,

replicas-

yes, we do need more of those.

 Unfolding the paper

out shines squares

and triangles,

too geometric to be you.

 Annoyed, I toss it away

rewriting history,

making the edges smoother,

finally matured.

It shines,

glistens

as sweat would

running down your back.

 I check your portrait-

still smiling in that fuzzy sweater.

 Angered,

I have snatched up

the plastic blades,

chopping it anyway,

blood running,

dripping laughingly

from it’s grand architecture.

Petals wilt and fall

as it melts,

Snowflakes have short lives anyhow.

No interference.

.

.

To kill a Spider

.

The spider hanging

by dear desolate thread,

.

Laughs, points, mocks

spider legs hunched,

.

Frozen, deathly still

because of a bundle of fibers,

.

All my fears

always captured in spider hearts,

.

Ready to conquer

to crush spider dreams,

.

It's minuscule body

my unnourished appetite,

.

8 eyes stare

more than have ever stared before,

.

I lust after another

turn my head it's gone-

.

I have run like everyone else.

.

.

Inauguration

.

changed my name

you changed your name

didn’t even tell me-

sorry, i’m here again

maybe i’ll quit looking for you.

at least i can lift my head before 1

dents in pillows

formed by our heads,

the body of me,

spirit of you

lost between tattered sheets-

getting over you.

***

our hands were unified,

his hand that touched mine,

that ventured his own. (scared away)

where did little jimmy go?

jimmy the beautiful poet

eating with anne

kicked baby huck out of the picnic,

i love huck more than you

he is everything you aren’t

even though you’re grade A

getting over you.

**

little blue ladies

raining wedding rings (never felt like part of that)

let’s shake the spiders out of her,

pouring quarters,

reaching between my legs

always the exhibitionist.

don’t know where to go,

just getting waxed,

rip you off

shirley’s stars told me you were it

why not?

racks twirl around, for sale

100% off

getting over you.

*

too attracted to vanity

to silicone,

escalators carry up there

up up and away

o poet’s mouth losing words between the cracks

sweet o sweet sylvia,

he’s just too cool,

getting over you

for maybe a year,

maybe another garage sale,

joni understands,

bugs and boys alike

getting over you.

.

.

structured

silence