gray.
she fluttered, down from plastic rickshaw,
sat on kitchen sash.
gray.
wind pushed her into water.
faded queen of hearts.
bau~gula.
invoked for cursing, sick of love.
joining suds and old coffee grounds,
in drain.
beside the suicide king,
who had fallen, there, days before.
picked up from gutters,
south of main and cushing.
king of hedons. babylon.
both, now soggy, from different decks, completely.
covered in spaghetti.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Bikes of Tortured Girls and Paint
"I like to wake her up, when she's had too much to drink,
or, when she's just too tired to know what's going on."
"I like to ask her, things, like..."
"What color do you want your bike, painted?"
"Can I paint it, stripey... like a bee?"
"Yesss..." She'll answer, sleepily.
"Like a soft, fuzzy, bee?"
"Yesss..." She'll answer... "Like a soffft, fuzzzy beee..."
"I think, that may be categorized, as torture." I say.
That's when every man, in the room, looks my way,
and say, almost, in angry unison, something...
about how I don't understand men, at all.
But, I do understand men.
And, I understand why all the loved and tortured girls'
bikes, are striped, and painted fuzzy...
or, when she's just too tired to know what's going on."
"I like to ask her, things, like..."
"What color do you want your bike, painted?"
"Can I paint it, stripey... like a bee?"
"Yesss..." She'll answer, sleepily.
"Like a soft, fuzzy, bee?"
"Yesss..." She'll answer... "Like a soffft, fuzzzy beee..."
"I think, that may be categorized, as torture." I say.
That's when every man, in the room, looks my way,
and say, almost, in angry unison, something...
about how I don't understand men, at all.
But, I do understand men.
And, I understand why all the loved and tortured girls'
bikes, are striped, and painted fuzzy...
At Least I'm Dreaming, Again
"At least, I'm dreaming, again."
She said.
"I called in sick, and then came by to visit you."
"You were sexing with my friend, Miss Nadja."
"I tried to explain, to the both of you,
that I wasn't mad, just bored."
"Then, I rode that big green bike, right up a two story wall."
"It only stopped working, when everyone told me that I couldn't do that."
"And, I fell."
"All the way down, I just kept thinking..."
"I really, so love this old Schwinn..."
"But, it's going to hurt, like the Dickens, if I don't disengage myself,
from it, pronto."
"You know that sick in the stomach feeling,
that you get, when you fall..."
"Well, it woke me up. I was mad at you, all day."
Not really mad. Just irritated."
"So, Ultralith, what do you think that it means?"
"I think that you know what it means."
"And, I think that if I tell you what I think it means,
it won't be any different, than what you thought it meant, before."
But, I do think, that you'll be irritated, at what I think it means."
"Well...
"It's been since December."
"And, it's almost my birthday."
"At least, I'm dreaming, again."
She said.
"I called in sick, and then came by to visit you."
"You were sexing with my friend, Miss Nadja."
"I tried to explain, to the both of you,
that I wasn't mad, just bored."
"Then, I rode that big green bike, right up a two story wall."
"It only stopped working, when everyone told me that I couldn't do that."
"And, I fell."
"All the way down, I just kept thinking..."
"I really, so love this old Schwinn..."
"But, it's going to hurt, like the Dickens, if I don't disengage myself,
from it, pronto."
"You know that sick in the stomach feeling,
that you get, when you fall..."
"Well, it woke me up. I was mad at you, all day."
Not really mad. Just irritated."
"So, Ultralith, what do you think that it means?"
"I think that you know what it means."
"And, I think that if I tell you what I think it means,
it won't be any different, than what you thought it meant, before."
But, I do think, that you'll be irritated, at what I think it means."
"Well...
"It's been since December."
"And, it's almost my birthday."
"At least, I'm dreaming, again."
Not Worth The Salt
He knew I was sad,
about not being able to figure out a particular friendship,
and the loss, of lied to about, relationship.
As he left, he turned, and said,
"Mom. I tell you what I do.
I know that you don't always like it.
But, I tell you.
I tell you the truth, because, I respect you.
AND, I trust you.
I trust, that you will love me, always,
even if you don't like what I do."
"Never be sad, at the loss, of someone,
who won't tell you,
the truth."
Then, he said, "TRUST IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN LOVE."
"I CAN LOVE SOMEONE, BUT NOT TRUST THEM.
BUT, IF I TRUST SOMEONE, HOW CAN I HELP, BUT TO LOVE THEM?"
As he walked away, he finished, with,
"Someone who lies,
is not worth your purest tears, of friendship."
My son is twenty~two years old.
What he said, is wise, beyond a million.
People lie, out of fear.
I am weary, of chickens.
Much love.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Guns That Shoot Knives
Guns That Shoot Knives
Did he have a gun, that shoots knives?
His eyes, were guns that shoot knives.
Did any girls show up,
who have eyes,
that are guns that shoot knives?
One.
But, her eyes
are like guns that shoot lnives
made out of wet bread.
Did you get shot,
with wet bread?
I don't know.
I wasn't that hungry
Did he have a gun, that shoots knives?
His eyes, were guns that shoot knives.
Did any girls show up,
who have eyes,
that are guns that shoot knives?
One.
But, her eyes
are like guns that shoot lnives
made out of wet bread.
Did you get shot,
with wet bread?
I don't know.
I wasn't that hungry
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