Monday, February 14, 2011

sometimes i sit and tap my shoe
i type the words and words and words. it's a simple operation, i don't even have to
spell them right (the machine does it for me). sometimes i chew my gum and when that gets boring
i chew my straw, when that gets boring I chew my tongue, when that gets boring i chew my hair, when
that gets boring i go cross-eyed, when that gets boring
i close my eyes and think of
think think of your warm hard softness, and i can feel your hand
tracing up my spine, one vertebrate, two vertebrae,
clavicle, head, shoulders, fingertoes, and that
soft spot on my neck. i check the clock again.
tick tock, body rocks, your straights and all my curves. straight in the suit and a mess
outside.
sometimes i sit and tap my shoe.
i wait for you to make me a woman.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

dear police, somebody
stole my soul. no one
saw them do it, it was a witnessless crime. i
didn't even catch it. see, this is a tricky one,
the soul is colorful to the heavens but
transparent to the earthly eye, and so I couldn't reach out
and grab it when they extracted it from my nose with a long skinny hook (well, that's how I'd imagine they'd do it, like the egyptians took out brains.)

if the soul
is like hope (and I hope it is) it is
a thing with feathers, and so that made
the theft that much easier, as my soul didn't really have to be pulled,
it was ready to go, it did what a soul naturally longs to do,
it floated on up and up toward
the lights and
the dancing, the painted colors and
pointed shapes.
i am dumb
my head is numb
my thoughts are all the floozies.

say little bird,
what have you heard? sing something loud,
undo me.