I had a fever, but only in one eye.
I opened it--
Tripped-out fractals,
Colors,
Bullshit.
I closed it--
My naked love
With a wicked smile on her gone-gypsy face.
I wrote poems, but only with one hand.
The other did the most batshit-crazy things, all unbidden--
Got a job,
Wore a ring,
Spooned pablum til I wanted to cut it off and fling it away.
So I cut it off and flung it away.
Now I spend afternoons reading Soap Opera Digest by the freeway,
Nestled between two stone-loony lunging German Shepherds I have named Bonnie and Clyde
But I call them
Doll-Baby and Pookie-Face,
And I wink at them as I feed them Sonic burgers and stroke them with my stump.
They know
That I have a beautiful heart,
And who but them will love this heart?
I have a fever, but only in one eye.
I open it--
Tripped-out fractals,
Colors,
Bullshit.
I close it--
My naked love
With a wicked smile on her gone-gypsy face.
_________
Clever gypsy poems indeed. Wow, you continue to amaze. Love the "gone-gypsy face", love the "stone-loony lunging" dogs and the "who but them will love this heart?" And the spooning pablum till you wanted to cut it off and fling it away. It is all so original and wonderful and makes the mind take flight. And you just keep doing it - not one single poem anything less than completely stunning.
ReplyDeleteSo I suppose now you know all about the sound of one hand clapping?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful work, Shay. You wield a scalpel and a pen here, both equally well.
The double life...and finally the freedom though the cost might seem high to some.
ReplyDeleteAs always, Shay, your poetry transports me.
I love the strength to cast things off and choose to be free! You never cease to amaze with your creativity!
ReplyDeleteTeresa
Shay!!! OMG can you write!!
ReplyDeletenot saying more girl
just hugs
This is quite a synchronicity. I spend my last session with Igor talking about the symbolic injury of my *one* eye( related to the dream I had about my "children"). Coming here and reading this is seeing feels like looking at a mirror, in one eye.;-)
ReplyDeleteYou really can write. You know that, don't you?
xoxo
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
ReplyDelete*Snap*
ReplyDeleteThat's awesome.
xo jj
I love this!
ReplyDelete"...stroke them with my stump." That's the most memorable part of this funky li'l poem. I love it!!
ReplyDelete"What ever happened to Baby Jane?"....sometimes your labels are as much fun to read as your wonderful prose Shay!! I will second the
ReplyDeleteweeeeeeeeeeeeee! :-)
Geez, not tripping through the sunshine daisies with this one.
ReplyDeleteSonic burgers are not my favorite. Too much mustard even when i say "Please extra-light on the mustard." Good onion rings, tho.
xoxo
O, your amazing imagination!
ReplyDeleteVisiting as per your "sweet 16 party" - and this just totally rocks it - captures the indifference of the experience of falling through the cracks, but does it with a very tenderly sensitive essence that isn't sloppy sentiment- choice words in the few - but it is punch powered.
ReplyDeleteI love the gone-gypsy face and the two dogs who know she has a beautiful heart.
ReplyDeleteThey know
ReplyDeleteThat I have a beautiful heart,
And who but them will love this heart?
I love this, Shay. What it is to have a heart in a heartless world.
Back again, and loving it still. I love the stroking of the beautiful dog with the stump, the beautiful heart, and the "who but them will love this heart?" Wonderful.
ReplyDelete