Saturday, June 29, 2013

Dr. Appleseed

The celiac vampire is always hungry.

"When I sleep, I dream of flour," she tells her therapist.

He suggests that she take up gardening.

The celiac vampire rises like bread dough
and rips the Adam's apple from her therapist's throat.

Now, she dreams of orchards.

Friday, June 28, 2013

To My Unborn Children

I feel you -
little snakes in my belly.
Not always,
but enough
that I gather my guts
between rough hands
and reason:

The nights are too long;
my days are too few;
my needs are too many.
But the truth

is I was afraid
of having a favorite.

For Fireblossom Friday at Real Toads

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Berries

We put our heads together,
but it didn't help our hearts.
We painted peace signs on each other,
but didn't toss away our arms.

You set your hands and face against me,
curse, and claim me stubborn as the time.
Still, I won't eat your shit and sawdust
and call it berries from the vine.

Tirelessly re-written and savagely edited into 55 words for my G-Man!

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

A Match

Stanley Kubrick for Look Magazine, 1949

You can't work the wilderness
without fire.
It's instinct to crave
heat and light.
In this wilderness without fire,
we all need a match.

A Magpie Tale

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Bride Flower

In the third year without wildflowers,
I circle swept a space
in the graceless dirt
and fell
before the hollow hives of the bees.

My confessions called nothing
and nothing.
And, my penance,
it produced nothing.

A stroke of my hand
broke open the dry, brittle hive
like two halves of a heart,
and I held them high -
invocations falling ripe
from my lips.

But, my pleas were heard
by nothing.
And, my prayers were answered
by nothing.

So, I parted my petal thighs
and returned a piece of the hive
to the honey-

and I became swarm
warm, winged,
and alive . . .

I became the sting and the bride flower . . .

I became a Queen
humming pregnant
with hive

and nothing.

For Open Link Night at dVerse

Saturday, June 22, 2013

When The Music's Over: Exposing The Cult Of St. Jim Of The Bathtub



"Then, suddenly, it came to me -
if he already has a fire,
why does he need a light from me?"

- - - Case Notes of Alana G., Age 64

For Susie's prompt at Real Toads

Friday, June 21, 2013

2 AM

She labors to breathe,
and I coax her next heartbeat
hour upon long hour

as if this sinking
ship will shore if I can keep
all the rats above water.

My really profound thoughts for Real Toads in a vaguely sedoka-like form for dVerse 

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Crow Boy

I see you
as a Crow boy
with red feathers in each hand.
My head tells me nothing's real,
but my heart insists on better than

nothing.

For Verse First at Poet's United

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Beehive Bouffant

Beehive bouffant
backcombed since Kennedy.
Preserved like an heirloom
from happenstance and the whimsy
of the weather -
whether it be wind or rain.

Pearls and a clutch.
Pajamas and slippers.
She waits by the front desk;
surely, he'll come and get her
by nightfall.
Can she call him again?

Then, her low, muttered monologue
soars to a scream,
and her transparent eyes
stare right through me
and she bites like a wildcat
until we're both bleeding
cursing and wailing and raging and pleading
and her beehive bouffant
backcombed since Kennedy
falls

disheveled
as her memories.

For Get Listed at Real Toads

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

A Lesson Learned

The Promenade by Marc Chagall

Next time
you ask me to a dance,
I'll bother to wear
some underpants!

A Magpie for Open Link Monday at dVerse

Monday, June 17, 2013

A Kindness

My time in the womb
was a waste of us both -
forming me feminine
and disappointing all of your hopes
for a son.
I've come to see there's a kindness done
when the spider just scuttles away.

Inspired by Kay's  Mini-Challenge and submitted to Open Link Monday at Real Toads.

Friday, June 14, 2013

There's A Girl

image by Merri Melde

"Hell is now in session in Abilene." --- Topeka Commonwealth, 1868

There's a girl
in San Antone.
And, if I ever
make it home
I'll take up prayin'
and buy her a ring
and never breathe a word
about Abilene.

Cause there's a girl
in Abilene
sweet as spring water
and sweet on me.
She lies in clover.
and don't say no.
She don't give a damn
about San Antone.

But, there's a river
that runs between,
red dirt muddy
and rolling mean.
If I go under
between the banks
give my love
and give my thanks

to San Antone
and Abilene.



Note: Abilene, Kansas was an "end of the trail" town for the Chisholm trail cattle drives.

Some Cowboy Poetry for Margaret's prompt at Real Toads

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Offering Up

Failing to find a fixed point,
I became one.
The sanest statue
in this field of freaks.
My limbs have loosened lately,
but I've yet to run.
I'm still offering up the art
I've made of me.

For Izy's prompt at Real Toads

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Off Hours

I wake up late at night
to wet the weeds
and pull the flowers.
I sweat up a snowstorm
and get starshade in my eyes.

I scatter salt and stone
and unspin
the spider's hours.
Tower buried bones
once I've chewed the dirt aside.

And, when the sparrow's song
rumors dawn,
I sand my hands -
stretch and yawn

and put myself away.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Suicide Season

Suicide season caught me
short of an overdose,
so I slept with you to see
what I could catch.

Opening day passed by
with you sticky on my thighs
and snuggled like a noose
around my neck.

Each day I spilled my sand,
but your suffocating hands
caught the grains as fast
as they could fall.

And by the season's end,
I was sandcastled in
and scratching recipes for hemlock
on the walls.

For Open Link Night at dVerse

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Massa


Massa got the science.
Massa got the seed.
Massa owns a White House
and do anything he please.

We may not be shackled
or tethered to a plow,
but Massa holds the harvest
and we all field niggers now.

Monsanto: where do I even start?  Monsanto has such a stranglehold on the seed market that other options are becoming more and more difficult to find.  Monsanto genetically modifies seeds and has successfully lobbied to prevent genetically modified food from being labeled as such.  If that's not enough, Congress recently passed the Monsanto Protection Act (the actual law is buried in another bill) that prevents you from suing Monsanto if their genetically modified crops cause you any injury such as . . .

 

growing giant tumors like these rats did after a diet of genetically modified corn.

For Real Toads (where Kerry will probably never risk getting a rant from me again!).