Friday, January 28, 2011

Photobucket

life brings death

I remember the death rattle and everything that happened in that room before and after.
When I was a little girl, the wallpaper. The dress-up drawer, hiding in the closet, the opening and closing of a music box. The ouiji board, god it scared the shit out of me. Cold and wet from the swimming pool, dripping in the kitchen.  Popsicles.
Then the hospital bed, the red lipstick over parched lips. The morphine injections and the subsequent urgency to remove clothing, the sagging breasts. The face-lift scar. Gold, emeralds, diamonds on every finger and every toe. The light filtered through shutters over wrinkled skin. That prayer. The smell of lilies. Fingers over eyelids. A man carrying away a corpse.

Monday, January 24, 2011

(she moved in circles, and those circles moved)

the waking

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me, so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go



--Theodore Roethke



existing on nicotine and mexican border music.
in the kitchen there is a beetle on its back
ants in the honey
I'm wearing your cardigan.

it's late but early
picking dead skin off my feet
contemplating a toenail collection
the tea is fogging up my glasses the way you used to.



I love America

but when I say I love America, what I mean is I love New York.

FUCK PARADISE GIVE ME PIZZA

fool for the city.



goin' to the city, got you on my mind
country sure is pretty, I'll leave it all behind
this is my decision, I'm comin' home to stay this time.

I'm like a fish out of water, just a man in a hole
the city lights turn my blues into gold
I ain't no country boy, I'm just a homesick man
I'm gonna hit that grit just as fast as I can.

I'll get off on main st, step into the crowd
sidwalk under my feet, yeah, traffic's good and loud
when I see my inner city child I'll be walkin' on a cloud.

I'm tired of layin' back, hangin' around
I'm gonna catch that train, then I'll be city bound...









Saturday, January 22, 2011

Friday, January 21, 2011

the end of december


sitting on the back of a bus
from jersey
to new york city
watching the shifting landscapes of my life

through the icy window
and the snow
there are jungles and dirty apartments
basements and fist fights
births, deaths, moths
rain for days
the desert
the sowing of seeds
porch swings, empty bottles
goodbyes

high tides.



there is always a window.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

you can sleep when you're dead


Eat my face. I want to give you every part of my soul. We can write it down in books. We can crave it like bad drugs and then we can write about it more over printed text and on postcards and overpriced letters. come here. undress me. read to me. sing to me. worship me. I need it.

Monday, January 17, 2011

don't think twice

lizard lists and prose stapled to memory or brain or beating bloody organ.

somewhere over the rainbow


joshmaupin.com

your own funeral




Saturday, January 8, 2011



I always thought I wanted to live alone but this house is so big when I'm sitting here in the dark. More like a cage than a house. More like a box than a cage.