MY FISTS ARE CLENCHED TIGHT
WHENEVER I WALK INTO A ROOM
I SUSPECT EVERYONE IS OUT TO GET ME
THEY'RE ALL LOOKING FOR A FLAW
LOOKING FOR MY DEEP SECRETS
MY HIDDEN PAIN
MY DEEPEST FEARS
MY EYES ARE WIDE
WHEN I WALK INTO A ROOM
LOOKING OUT FOR WOLVES
SEEKING OUT SERPENTS
HUNTING FOR THE SILVER TONGUES
AND HOLLOW GOLD SOULS
WITH LIPSTICKS AND SUITS
DRINKS AND DRUGS IN HAND
PULLING THEIR PERSONALITIES
OUT OF THEIR ASSES
MAKING IT UP AS THEY GO ALONG
FAKING IT FOR PEOPLE
WHO WONT REMEMBER THEM
IN THE MORNING
MY BODY IS TENSE
WHEN I WALK INTO A ROOM
AWARE OF THESE DEVILS AND ANGELS
EMPTY HUMAN CARCASSES
HIGH OFF THEIR ASSES
SIPPING OUT OF GLASSES
FULL OF SPIRIT
FULL OF SPIT
FULL OF SPITE
FULL OF SHIT
WHEN I WALK INTO A ROOM
I AM AWAKE
I AM ON POINT
BECAUSE I KNOW
HOW VULNERABLE I AM
PAST THE FIRST
LAYER OF FLESH
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Honors Lounge 2010
They've come back from picking up their lunches from their respective eateries.
Three of the five have come back quicker.
The plop down in their chairs and unwrap cellophane from sandwiches. Chip bags pop open, sodas hiss unscrewed, paper is torn off and discarded.
Their mouths open wide to accept the bounty of pre-packaged glory.
Saliva produces quickly, dissolving the hunks of bred and animal flesh macerated by straight white teeth.
The lounge fills with the sounds of actual lip smacking. The air smells like mustard and diet coke.
The second set comes in.
"You guys got back fast."
"Couldn't wait for us?"
They sit and unwrap their packages. Plastic bags rustle in rhythm. Neatly wrapped tin foil housed in plastic domes. A Styrofoam shell is cracked open. The smell of rice, beans and steak floods my head.
"Ugh! I forgot to ask for no beans. I hate black beans! YUCK!"
She closes the lid in disgust.
After a second of reflection she opens the shell and scrapes the beans onto a discarded paper bag.
"Are you... not going to eat those?" My voice rises meekly from within my empty stomach.
Three of the five have come back quicker.
The plop down in their chairs and unwrap cellophane from sandwiches. Chip bags pop open, sodas hiss unscrewed, paper is torn off and discarded.
Their mouths open wide to accept the bounty of pre-packaged glory.
Saliva produces quickly, dissolving the hunks of bred and animal flesh macerated by straight white teeth.
The lounge fills with the sounds of actual lip smacking. The air smells like mustard and diet coke.
The second set comes in.
"You guys got back fast."
"Couldn't wait for us?"
They sit and unwrap their packages. Plastic bags rustle in rhythm. Neatly wrapped tin foil housed in plastic domes. A Styrofoam shell is cracked open. The smell of rice, beans and steak floods my head.
"Ugh! I forgot to ask for no beans. I hate black beans! YUCK!"
She closes the lid in disgust.
After a second of reflection she opens the shell and scrapes the beans onto a discarded paper bag.
"Are you... not going to eat those?" My voice rises meekly from within my empty stomach.
from 2010
Subway cars
Sea of people
Screaming children begging
Tired elders weighed down with plastic bags
Middle aged couples speaking quickly to explain themselves
Skateboard wheels clatter on the floor
All nationalities represented
All states of conciousness
Reading, writing, sleeping, ignoring, going home, going out, going back, leaving for good
Tattoos of every size and tradition
Head phones and head sets
Worried looks
Hopeful eyes
Tension
Exhaustion
Where are they going
What are they waiting for
Sea of people
Screaming children begging
Tired elders weighed down with plastic bags
Middle aged couples speaking quickly to explain themselves
Skateboard wheels clatter on the floor
All nationalities represented
All states of conciousness
Reading, writing, sleeping, ignoring, going home, going out, going back, leaving for good
Tattoos of every size and tradition
Head phones and head sets
Worried looks
Hopeful eyes
Tension
Exhaustion
Where are they going
What are they waiting for
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Sorry Y'all
I have been neglecting this little corner of my life and for that I am sorry two fold.
Sorry for you and for me.
I have been working very hard on my zines (which is great!) but because I want these stories to be appear in print format I hesitate to put them up online.
Also... I am not writing much poetry. Which is also sad. I am writing stories. Which is good. But poetry is how this anxiety ridden too tense brain is able to spill out her guts with out needing to arrange them.
If you are interested in my zines please check out PrettyDirtyPress.etsy.com or message me and I am happy to send you one/trade.
Living in my old room the memories and stories flow through me.
Living in the city all that flowed was rage and depression.
Both fuel me. Neither is worse. But neither is enough.
Sorry for you and for me.
I have been working very hard on my zines (which is great!) but because I want these stories to be appear in print format I hesitate to put them up online.
Also... I am not writing much poetry. Which is also sad. I am writing stories. Which is good. But poetry is how this anxiety ridden too tense brain is able to spill out her guts with out needing to arrange them.
If you are interested in my zines please check out PrettyDirtyPress.etsy.com or message me and I am happy to send you one/trade.
Living in my old room the memories and stories flow through me.
Living in the city all that flowed was rage and depression.
Both fuel me. Neither is worse. But neither is enough.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Better?
I want to be better.
But what does that mean?
What does that include?
Better to whom?
Because isn't that what this conflict is about?
Am I getting better for them or for me?
Am I this way because I don't want to get better?
What is the problem?
I'm the problem.
That's for sure.
But not all of me.
I can't all be wrong.
I can't all be bad.
I can't be like this forever.
I want to fix myself.
But I am holding myself back.
Because, who will I be if I am not broken?
But what does that mean?
What does that include?
Better to whom?
Because isn't that what this conflict is about?
Am I getting better for them or for me?
Am I this way because I don't want to get better?
What is the problem?
I'm the problem.
That's for sure.
But not all of me.
I can't all be wrong.
I can't all be bad.
I can't be like this forever.
I want to fix myself.
But I am holding myself back.
Because, who will I be if I am not broken?
Early Morning on the S Train
I've got on a huge overstuffed backpack
A tote bag with an image of a woman slicing off her own nipple
A large triple shot espresso in one hand
And a bagel with peanut butter and
a half of a banana smushed inbetween
I've got peanut butter all over my hands
Snot is dripping from my face
And I just keep looking
for a woman in a fur coat.
MAKING FRIENDS WHEREVER I GO
:) :) :)
A tote bag with an image of a woman slicing off her own nipple
A large triple shot espresso in one hand
And a bagel with peanut butter and
a half of a banana smushed inbetween
I've got peanut butter all over my hands
Snot is dripping from my face
And I just keep looking
for a woman in a fur coat.
MAKING FRIENDS WHEREVER I GO
:) :) :)
Thursday, May 15, 2014
2012, The Buzzcocks and Me
In 2012 I did a thing.
The Buzzcocks have a song that goes, "WHAT DO I GET?" and then lists things to create a catchy chorus. It is a damn good song and part of the punk anthem pantheon.
I was going out drinking pretty much every night in 2012 and carted around a notebook and pen. At the peak of my self loathing I would make lists. I am a very good list maker. It started off with the above phrase from The Buzzcocks and then a list of things that were happening to me at that moment, had happened in moments past, or were remarks on general moments of life that reoccurred and created my current reality. Here are two I found, more to come:
WHAT DO I GET?
- I get drunk
- I get missed connections
- I get far away glances that lead to nowhere
- I get a feeling in my gut
- I get a sense of dread
- I get a sense I am too chicken shit to say anything
- I am too chicken shit not to order another drink
WHAT DO I GET?
- NERVOUS
- GIDDY
- OVERLY CONFIDENT (and then insecure)
- INTROVERTED (why do you think I've got this pad and pen wherever I go?)
- TONGUE TIED
- FIDGETY
- DRUNK (really really drunk)
The Buzzcocks have a song that goes, "WHAT DO I GET?" and then lists things to create a catchy chorus. It is a damn good song and part of the punk anthem pantheon.
I was going out drinking pretty much every night in 2012 and carted around a notebook and pen. At the peak of my self loathing I would make lists. I am a very good list maker. It started off with the above phrase from The Buzzcocks and then a list of things that were happening to me at that moment, had happened in moments past, or were remarks on general moments of life that reoccurred and created my current reality. Here are two I found, more to come:
WHAT DO I GET?
- I get drunk
- I get missed connections
- I get far away glances that lead to nowhere
- I get a feeling in my gut
- I get a sense of dread
- I get a sense I am too chicken shit to say anything
- I am too chicken shit not to order another drink
WHAT DO I GET?
- NERVOUS
- GIDDY
- OVERLY CONFIDENT (and then insecure)
- INTROVERTED (why do you think I've got this pad and pen wherever I go?)
- TONGUE TIED
- FIDGETY
- DRUNK (really really drunk)
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