Wednesday, March 31, 2004

poet humor

a little bit about me: i hate form in poetry, for the most part. i do like haiku, i also love sestinas. i might even throw a villanelle at you, but i hate ABAB rhyme forms, and any variation thereof. you can believe if i wrote a sonnet, then someone made me do it. so, this:
i found this, it's from a creative writing course i took before tenth grade (in high school).....
it still cracks me up. this is what you get when you make me do things i hate.

the sonnet-hater's sonnet

i do not want to write this stupid sonnet
though the assignment was to write in verse
of Shakespeare's time, and stay right on it
i rather think it molds my verses worse.
although it holds my rambling po'etry tame,
sonnet form my inspiration bums.
maybe someday this sonnet will bring fame;
though all think the word "gag" for sonnet sums.
constraining form is sonnet's major vice
it makes the poetry sound rather rough;
i'd really hate to write this sonnet twice
i think that torture once is quite enough.
i've learned my sonnet writing isn't best;
i'll write in something else, like anapest.

Tuesday, March 30, 2004

starting to lose

the song reminds me of years ago
before i even knew how to fuck
i'd spend hours listening to it on repeat
and imagine the scenario in my head

he would bring roses
or it would be perfect, somehow
we would be the pair
of movie soul-mates
matched moves, with a broken sort of sweetness
a completion
i was in love.

grey Nissan, year '92
the upholstery was piecey
he bent me into the narrow seats
radio playing
a commercial for cars.

on the way back,
he told me how,
years ago,
he had laid out roses for his prom date
who said no

Monday, March 29, 2004

when rage becomes desire

i want to be the girl
who can't quite manage to cry
when you fail me

Saturday, March 27, 2004


i’m pleading
any deity that might

that one day i’ll look you
in the face

and all i’ll think is,
“yeah, i used to love her.”

* also in my B.A. senior thesis

Friday, March 26, 2004

my face against the fabric

my eyelashes brush the glass and the tears
pool in the lenses
frames smashed between my face
and a pillow
i fling them off and watch
the salty liquid roll away,
or, if left alone long enough,
evaporate in the sun
like blood in a vial
scars on an arm
meaningless love letters
the scent of her on my clothes

picture me trying to evoke her
long after the scent has faded.

Thursday, March 25, 2004


same old shit
you ask every time
when you call me
three hours late,
"what you doing?"
and i answer,
waiting for you

because it's the goddamned truth
it's what i've been doing
since august
for every in-between call,
some small forgotten promise,
and the songs you won't let me play

it doesn't matter
i'm good at waiting.

i perfected the art
early in junior year,
lying still in bed, barely breathing
hoping she'd touch me -
a familiar scene i've repeated with you
and when
for the thirty-some-odd time, i fail
i stand in the rain,
smoking pain away.

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

love is*

like grapefruit

sweet when it curves
into your fingers but
after the fruit is devoured
all you're left with
is a pile of refuse

a bitter taste
on your mouth and fingers

* in my B.A. thesis. they wanted me to switch the first line for the title, and vice versa... so i did in the thesis, but i personally think that's crap, and have switched it back...because it's mine... and my prerogative.

Sunday, March 21, 2004

this princess is quitting

i'm sick of all the lies about
the fairy tales
your goddamned happily
ever after
bunk and hogwash
i used to wait for that
fucking prince you swore
would save me

well then where was he
when i was slitting my
wrists, and why
didn't he hold me
when i cried

when i mixed poisons
and crawled
on the living room floor
thinking i was dying
when i prayed to the porcelain gods
when i fertilized
the cemeteries with my blood

where the fuck was he
playing his video games
or getting stoned

an imaginary thing
a lie no one bothered to rescind,
like they would about the tooth fairy

they leave the important questions hung
in the air, loud and unanswered.

Saturday, March 20, 2004

conceiving bitterness

a faithless sort of man
the kind that will promise the world
and hold you, and then leave

you will choke on the sawdust
when he is gone.
he leave trails of broken things
behind him,
daughter, marriage, wife

Friday, March 19, 2004

how to become invisible

it's in the way you reach over, suddenly
propelled out of inertness by chords
all too familiar, and none you
want to hear

the way when i put certain songs on,
you change my entire lineup
and put your preferences on, instead

and look, i know it's not a social commentary
about my music tastes, or the
appropriateness of the sound

no, your problem comes with
long, curly brown hair
the kind that piles up in
the corners of showers
and sticks to you in
unexpected places, and
won't stay off your clothing

kind of like the way her memory
stays in the corners of your
mind and infects the
curves of my body

i remind you of her

but i'd rather leave you behind
than become her flesh-incarnate memory,
a replacement
to knock around your bed,
a shoulder to cry on

Thursday, March 18, 2004


she wears blue contacts
the kind designed to
camouflage a darker color
like curtains for a window.
she doesn't let him see
her eyes naked, he already sees enough
with his penetrating glance,
and the way he undresses her silently
as if she is a statue
incapable of moving, or
independent thought.
the way his fingers trespass...

she closes her eyes.
he'll never see her.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

cute girl seeks same

a gamer, i think
someone who gets lost
in a computer screen, or
one who can contemplate the complexities
of a d20.
someone who won't notice
my presence in the room
until i sit down in her line of vision,
so i can see that light jump
into her eyes.
i want a nerd
someone with glasses, so that
when i take them off and
they can't really see
they'll stare, unfocused, with a small grin
i think someone who would pair
a sports coat with jeans
and Airwalks
the kind that, when your eyes
meet in the bookstore, you both
just smile
because you know how to laugh
at yourself,
laugh at the world.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

smudges in my rear view (irritants)*

i can see your heart
although you’re trying
to cover that wound
as an oyster would
a pearl

the gentle curve of neck
does not betray tension
small and cold
surrounding the
but your fingers do a
on my coffee

*this is also in my B.A. thesis, edited from the original version a bit

Friday, March 12, 2004

hold your breath

you hear the room tense
with silent anticipation
we walk past with
fading breath
an unrequited love song,
an accidental death.
the room seems empty,
frozen, devoid
of warmth and life

Sunday, March 7, 2004


every picture makes my stomach clench
an old familiar feeling i can manage
to pretend i'm comfortable with
but betrayal is never something that leaves
your mind. while i thumb the snapshots
(your naked smile)
i try to deaden, every time
the lump in my throat
the convulsive ways my eyes betray me.

Friday, March 5, 2004

[& but now]

those soft tones used to evoke you

i see only her
she stands over the whispered words
a memory no amount of blocking
could undo
i cannot escape her
i attempted to resuscitate my life,
free of her omnipresence

but i can't bleed this away
no, i cannot bury my insecurities
into my flesh, and dredge up
the old show of mask
and stone

Monday, March 1, 2004

i don't expect anything

dig in with your razor teeth
take the flesh a piece at a time
tear into the core
and keep going
until you have a perfect piece of artwork
hollowed from the inside out
a porcelain heart
but beautiful.