Sunday, December 01, 2019

The Hours


at 1:32 am what I've
not made room for
arrives like a rip tide

insistent, deeper
than the hours moving
as slowly as a world
I can't feel turn

things said and not heard
carry on conversations
I'm only here to witness

in the stillness
my heart grows irregular
beats in time with
an unresolved chaos

lost in the circular,
hopeless drag of analysis,
dawn creeps towards me

I drift off to dream
of letting go, of making room
for nothing to be done

Monday, May 27, 2019

Role with It

hero enables
histrionics 

jester juggles  
folks' lore 

the lost two 
turn their backs

cyclical origins 
of organic  
dysfunction

Saturday, May 25, 2019

No Consent

As a preface, I was thinking about doing an art piece of some type with this poem and cutting it into little slips of paper with separate "years" that women could take with them for things they identify with, remember or suffer for. One day I might; for now, it's obscure here on my blog.

NO CONSENT

9
we rode bikes on trails
in the park near the pool
as if they were horses;
our wild freedom
interrupted by an unforgettable man 
"We used to ride here, too"
we paid polite attention

"Girls, watch for people, 
I have to do something" 

disappearing into bushes, 
he walked back onto the path
pale and pant-less,
as if they wanted to see it

10
the two-piece strap slipped
from her shoulder
her body's betrayal
made her regret wearing it

their half-closed eyes smirked
smiles mouthed 
"Hey girl, come over here"
the teeth flashed a warning

her feet backed out
to the safety of any distance
is a good distance

sand and mud slick
with the slime of decay

12
three stood in a triangle formation
blocked her with the confidence
of a well-studied play 
diagrammed x's and arrows

"How much do you charge?"
asked the blue-eyed-blond
future girls' nightmare

her threat to tell enough
to make them stop

she'd never been kissed

13
the nervous neighbor,
father of three,
sweat a line of lust
above a drooling smile
"You're getting so tan"

on the path from the pool
she evaded invisible hands

her father ignored the obvious

15
two months of first love
when her family
planned to move

he thought she
should touch him 
because of that

because she
was leaving

17
her round-shouldered
neighbor didn't date
some random weekend
she agreed to a movie

his braces gleamed in
the cave of his
mother's front seat
aggressive hands
revealed who he was

she regretted 
ever being nice

18
she parked haphazardly
in the dark field of cars
at someone's house party
she lost her keys

they'd only ever said 
hello in hallways 
he said he'd help 
her find them

Van Halen filled the air
and Jamie was crying 
when he pushed her
to the ground

one beer, anger, and adrenaline
enough to throw him from her

her crab walk backward
found keys, an ancient instinct
placed each between her fingers

surprised/hurt/incredulous
he said he'd always liked her

18
At the floor party
she followed his
quick wit, impressive
vocabulary

"Brains and Boobs!" 
he shouted, as if
she should be proud
of both equally

19
Some Saturday night,
in the dorm, she
declined an offer
to go to his room

in the hallway of people
he yelled her ass was 
the fattest he'd ever seen

20
It snowed,
they celebrated
with strangers

her friend left; 
he offered a ride 

In the morning 
she pretended
nothing happened

she didn't look back

21
It was Friday
they celebrated 
with strangers

her friend left; 
he offered a ride

He said he couldn't 
drive, could he stay? 

She offered a 
downstairs couch

Before the roofie
took her down 
she caught a glimpse
as he crept in

fingers to lips, 
his lime green 
striped tube socks
and little-boy white briefs 
glowed in the dark 
flashed a neon warning

from her locked bathroom 
the morning after, 
she told him to leave 

He called her office later 
surprised/hurt/incredulous
that she wouldn't see him

Forgetting was harder 

Four weeks later, 
she had to remember
forced into a choice

forced, again

23
She had a single room
at the company party

at 3 am, her door opened
the second key to her room 
a gift the sales manager 
offered his young client, 
dad to a newborn

he had nowhere to go
"We can just talk..." 

her gut translated;
took her and everything 
to the bathroom 

snores meant safety 
she fled to the 
empty hotel lobby 

She didn't 
make waves 

34
The technician came 
to fix the basement drain 

A congenial conversation
grew strange, she said
she'd wait upstairs and 
fled the basement 

Relieved when he finished, 
she signed the receipt

Hated being nice 

44
It was hard to forget; 
she worked on forgetting 

50
It took hard work to forget

57
Me, too

58  
said no;
even when 
I didn't 

Thursday, April 11, 2019

Inheritance

too young
for fables

the innocent
sees truth

words
are not
necessary
to know

a child-self
envisions
powers
big enough
to slay away

whispers
wishes in
fevered,
fearful dreams

time tears
at the cloak
of love

no place
is safe;
longing arms
suffocate,
unfulfilled

the truth of it,
a lifelong tag;
scratches
at her neck