Peripheral issues,
like where to raise fireflies,
consume my government.
My government,
not yours.
I don’t share,
And my whole bureaucracy is off their meds, anyways.
Stop staring at my nudity.
You aren’t supposed to be here.
Tag: poetry
Clear
Clear candles overwhelm me with a thirst for light.
I love transparency,
translucency,
transmissions from stars.
What is it about the see through
that is so luxurious and soulful?
Marilyn Monroe as a Housewife
A congress of confetti has decreed
every wind must blow up.
The ground breathes.
I look like Marilyn Monroe as a housewife,
standing in my yard with my dress billowing around me.
My husband sees me with his eyes shut.
Hands open.
The hours I have given him clump between his fingers like cat litter
I will wash them with aloe.
I will dry them in silence.
Our daughter has been sequestered with the sequins
and she has sewn a shining dress.
See her straddle the breeze.
She learns from me.
The Art of Quiet
The art of Quiet is just as wonderful as fire,
the eyes of the artist open in the morning blast.
See proof of the paint box,
an uncertainty about normal color walking in a white place,
The place where luck dies.
What conflicts do publishers have with unauthorized ideas?
The artist is a charter school of chartreuse who longs to stand still.
Imagine a conference inspired by the Sistine chapel?
A child’s memory that moved Da Vinci’s David?
Passing the Bechdel Test
Passing the Bechdel Test
A voice from a blouse
A skirt of leaves
They have immolated their wicker man.
They talk of flowers and the physics of particles,
of vacuous clothing and sumptuous books.
Yet beneath brocade and bead work and sneaking mist
there is a want
they feel
but cannot remember.
Anorexia 2
Food is excellent,
almost smells necessary.
So does everything that possesses you
If only people could turn off the clock and wean themselves from his
nefarious purposes…
You feel five feet wide and are at least 1.
On the counter,
chocolate in all his attractions. Do not listen to him.
Eat your salad.
This is hate.
Your teeth flicker on and off.
Your bones shrink in disgrace.
Sin
The bones of bones are my bones,
White and hard
In the heat of the heat.
We who forget God can drink together,
Listening to human harassment and murder outside
In dark darkness.
How Can I Interpret Cats?
What are the smallest of the names of the words?
How can I interpret cats?
Older endless books?
Melodramatic Mondays?
What a day,
low, soft, and warm as it pleases,
boasting of kittens.
Reading the Wind
My face is full of static
My eyes are absent grace.
What signal can my hands claw for
Beneath this sky scored by power lines?
I am a receiving blanket.
I am a receipt.
In the best houses I am not received.
Watch me decode messages buried in my doughy skin.
Mania
Lush lights linger lightly on my legs.
Excess ecstasy jerks in my finger tips.
I have too much of myself.
I am smoldering.
My old jeans make juice from jam.
I’m going to take my face off
and dance with the band.
Please understand.
