Plague Years

Contusions, her thighs
And calves, tops of
Her feet;
Muddy and spotted
With sunflower color
And wine stained hills.

He believed in tolerence.
She could only believe
This was the practice of it,
how much she could take.

Michael, Saint Of Insecurity

I wanted to cut off my
Breasts,
Thighs.
Michael said
"Babe.
An hourglass is just fine,
No matter how much time
is in it."

I Won't Be Famous 'Til I'm Dead

The kind of poet, the soul, the girl.
She worked backwards.

Her teachers always told her,
"Never start with the title, write what you feel."

She never listened,
Of course she wouldn't;

What did they know
About creativity?

About the process?
Nothing, At all.

The evenings she worked on her titles,
at night built up her scars,

But she'd never suceed,
Not really, not yet.

The critics didn't agree
'Til she was gone, of course.

"What a soul."
"What a fresh new voice."

The Stamp, The Finality.

It was as if I were a letter,
Away! He sent me,
Mailed me to Mumbai or Darfur, or Bogata;
When I arrived, Stamped Express
(He couldn't do it fast enough)
Shredded me into mulch, packing peanuts
You, You, You,
You mail me away, marked "wrong address"
You are my home no longer-
back to the dark where i came,
to the bins of solace and
untouched breasts,
return to sender, ha.
from then to now, I am disowned, I know.

Cake Batter

So certain to contain me,
Be sure that the coffin you pick is
Air tight and
Nailed shut.
Because, Baby,
I
Will
Come back for you;
Take you with me if I could.

Random Artwork 4

Random Artwork 3

Random Artwork 2

Random Artwork 1

Self Portrait 2

Self Portrait

Borderlines

I did not seek you out,
You sought after me,
I saw you in the eyes
Of my mother,
And then I saw you in everything.
I did not intend to give in,
But violently the earth moved
Only behind my eyes,
And then you changed it all.
Taking my bravery,
You can not let me leave,
Make it misery to stay.
And in moments when I give in,
The earth stills,
Yet my insides are blended
Out of my mind.

Too Cold To Go Outside

I feel shame for being in the world,
Like a theif stealing time,
Stealing sunlight
From all others.
From one other only
From anyone at all.
Taking crisp fall air
And keeping it too long
-If someone should
Pant beside me,
On me,
Do I turn myself in?
I pray someone will
Catch me and take back
The time,
The wind,
I feel it even now as the winter begins.

The Air, The wound, Suffocate.

The apple lets the air in,
Breathes
-The air is poison
and turns it brown;
Rots her
As if breathing is
The cancer that kills it
-Kills me.
But it thrives with
It's skin hard
On the apple tree.

1939

All my friends already died,
The old man laughed
The young one cried
The children played
The flaws were stoic
The coffins weeped
The urns were poets

When all the bells
Had had their tolls
The women filled their
Washing bowls
The men threw rocks
At window panes
The children slept
On mothers manes

Their skirts blew west
Above their waists
Young boys whistled
Remaining chaste,
The world was simple
And bombs away
When young boys drafted
Their young girls stayed

We built their planes
And sent their baskets
When boys came home
We chose their caskets
A simpler time
Though bombs away
The women weeped
On holidays

The urns were poets
The coffins closed
The flaws were stoic
The children know
The young man laughed
The old one cried
All sons and friends
Already died.