For Androcles

There is no pissed-off girl who came out of the cradle swinging.
We all lie there at first,
blue-eyed and trustful, waiting for the big milk payday.

There's no pissed-off woman like a disappointed woman,
and by the time you met me I was
past all concern, 
wearing the same old barbed-wire bathrobe from one noon to the next.

You wisely sent your envoy first,
someone sweet and old-friendy who would make me hesitate
and hold my tongue, wondering if I knew her from somewhere, or what.

Come with me, she said.
Bring your tongue, your thorny tongue,
but bring it sleeping, curled up and barely bleeding, at least for now.

She brought me to meet you and you were the one;
the one who took the thorn from my tongue,
the lion from my tongue,
and soothed it with the cold calm of your thrillingly assured blankness.

I did not forget. Did you think I would?
Months later, led into the arena of your careless lying bullshit,
I called bullshit for what it was, turned my back on you, but to this day

I am not the same pissed-off girl,
not angry in the same way,
not hungry in the same way,
and so I am grateful, as you should be, for having had the love of a lion

however briefly.
______

for Fireblossom Friday at Real Toads. photo: Cristina Scabbia of Lacuna Coil.

Glass Girl

When I was younger, and stupider even than now,
I loved a glass girl.

The curve of her was the best curve,
and she never changed--could not change.

My friends said,
she was easy to talk to--
her mouth open all the time;
but they also said
she's somehow hard
somehow cold
and they were right.

I am a water girl,
as impermanent as a womb, a flood, or sweat on skin.
She told me, "I am empty; it all comes from you.
I refract your light, then send it back."

I am a water girl, 
she was a glass girl;
I could not maintain unless she held me,
and so she was, as I knew she was, exactly what I needed
when I was younger, and stupider even than now.

I miss her,
even knowing how hard, how cold.
She told me, "Fuck what anybody says or thinks. We are what we are."
Her black hair hung down and there we were
meeting on a borderline--
The deep. The stars.
_____

I offer this for the audio; the video portion has nothing to do with anything.

 

Fire Blossom

flame from friction--
i'm the backdraft baby from the oven mother.

she kept painting herself pot belly black--
i was born pink as a sea shell,
but the contact left me red--

red haired,
red tempered,
a real red headed stepchild struck sharply in the dark.

little marvel that you, dear later love, followed my smoky scent,
and, talons artfully crossed behind your back, declared me bright.

mommyless me,
furious turning-to-ashes me,
set your creative curses in my ear like diamonds,
and said, ah, my head is become a jewel.

like every pigeon of a huckster/devil/killer,
i thought it all came from you.

i was a bird looking with one eye through my heat-cracked varnish,
and oh how i sang for what i saw.

now i'm older,
my ledge is full of bones.
it looks like dance when i move around up here.

what i finally learned,
after loving you,
leaving you,
figuring you out,

is that the darkness in you that looked like home to me,
was just the product of my own burn.
i'm the light, motherfucker,
and you are only

headlights
sweeping, filling, blinding for a pitchman's moment--
and then gone, not even dark,
just non-existent like you were before i ever lit up your smile.
________ 

 for Susie's challenge at Real Toads

your kiss

Your kiss,
one of the last ones,
after I already knew that you had lied and cheated and played with my heart,

was still something I had to have.
I hadn't wanted to confront you on my birthday
with what I had so cleverly put together about what you had done;
I wanted one more day of being stupidly happy, first.

You put everything you had into everything you did,
and when you turned that on me, it was thrilling.
I'll never deny that.

Oh, I was noble and righteous and proud.
The next night I gave you one chance to come clean--
a chance you wasted.
So I broke it off, and told the world what and who you really are.

But what of that kiss, the one I remember,
the one right before you handed me the cat card, saying,
"I thought you should have some really good pussy for your birthday!"

You won't believe me when I tell you that your kiss sat in a museum
for years, in a glass case,
a forgotten exhibit ignored even by me.

Then the zoo took it over, because it had bitten someone,
or buckled her knees, or something,
and I heard about it from a friend, or a friend of a friend,
and by then I wasn't so proud anymore.
Being alone will erode a girl's confidence, and I have been alone.

No surprise, then, that the khaki-wearing student volunteer should find me
in the very early morning,
with my naked body wrapped around your kiss,
which still fit perfectly with my heartbeat.

Stop crying, she said.
Get dressed. You can't stay here.
It was just like the morning after I broke up with you,
except with no one to admire my backbone this time,
because
I no longer have any.
_________

Turning Turtle

Days follow nights--
Goddess in Her wisdom arranged it this way,
Divvied up small, with fresh starts at regular intervals,
So that there would not be madwomen running crazy down every boulevard,
A danger to themselves
And to others.

You are dark, you have eyes stolen from three a.m.
And hair full of beautiful nightmares.
I can't touch you enough, can't kiss you
Enough.
You leave.
You say to my dog, "Agent Bosco...take care of her for me."
That will be impossible--
I am a stone well-thrown,
Desiring only to kiss the earth as she rushes up fast.

You are working.
I attend a noon movie, something about The Future.
I have heard of it, but I am a body full to bursting with Right Now--
I want to see that look on your face,
And feel your fingers inside me until I am Jericho coming down;
When I can no longer bear it, I hold your wrist--
Stop, I beg, stop, but The Future is what you decide it will be,
My Avalanche,
My Undoing.

As I am leaving the theater, something terrible happens--
A distracted driver hits a girl;
Her bones break, the thing that was inside her deeper than her skin,
The thing that was always there, the thing that defined her, is shattered.
I know her leg shouldn't be like that,
I stare,
I think, thank Goddess it wasn't me.

Then I see you.
I know that woman, and I know that way you have of leaning close
Just before you say something so profane and wrong
That my knees buckle and I know I'm falling, whether right there or in bed later.
I look back at the girl with her twisted leg and am nearly sick.

Hearts break,
Right Now becomes Never Again,
But I know
And you know
That there are sequels all the time
And stupid girls to drag themselves across the parking lot like so many smashed turtles
Who ache to hear the sea
Before they die.
______

for Fireblossom Friday #10

Note: I don't love Belle anymore, wherever she is. But I did. Oh, I did. 
 

 
 

My Tiger

"Sociopaths do not feel empathy, and they do not fear risk. They are charismatic, but essentially empty. Do not fall into them."  --Delaur, 2006


Killing the fearless tiger is a cheap thing to do.
Silly men in pith helmets, 
Common as voles,
Do it in the early morning, then go home for kippers and tea.



Extinguished tigers balance on stools in the circus ring.
Petty parolees and ex-bartenders put on boots, then go cow them with frayed whips,
And commands in dialect.

It is the fearless tiger who fights. 
With Vijay's leg still in her belly, she swipes and lunges,
Showing the unmatchable constellation of her magnificent teeth.
She will be hung by her paws from a stick and carried upside-down into the village as reward for her boldness.


What I loved most about you, what I needed,
Was your certainty.
It hardly matters if you were right or not, moral or not, kind or not.
You were orange and so black.
I hid in your stripes like a dream.


Of course you lied.
Of course you deceived me.
Of course you fucked everything that held still long enough, including that half-grown swamp rat bitch you knew I hated.
I heard you call her by my secret name, and that,
That was the thing I could not forgive.


It was the others, the brown sparrows, who finally swarmed you and drove you south,
But it was me,
Your little cloud, the kitten on your shoulder,
Who called you out,
Who stopped you short, 
Who saw the disbelief in your fantastic green eyes
When I stood up to you with no weapon but my pride.


After that,
Both of us broken in different ways,
We separately disappeared to bleed ourselves weak and sick on the shadows of thick summer leaves.


That is the way to do it, I think.
I even still love you, a little, 
But I hate sparrows
And tea-weak cowards.
I would still help you kill them
Just for the hell of it,
And just to stop their silly righteous chatter.
_________


for One Shot Wednesday

My Favorite Devil

I don't like real evil.

It sends a frost across my bones

And slows my heart to a labored ache.

I run

Like a cat that's been called

I hide

Like Christians' kindness.



But when I was a little girl,

And my mother was making things so clean that they yelped,

I liked to sit at the splintery picnic table

Playing with poisons.



Mama say,

"Did you drink these?"

She shake me good, like a dirty rag rug, beat me like one, too.

"Did you?"

I'm ugly, not stupid.

I know how to keep my soul and bones together,

And that's why I nap in the middle of the wild dog pack

When you come callin' my name

With that sharp look in your eye.



I like devils.

Daddy taught me good English and good eatin'.

He taught me you laugh when you can and leave when you must.

He's wrong, so wrong,

And dead and gone

But I still love him--

The only man I ever will.



Mama came from the country,

But Daddy was the one who loved it.

Like everything else that warmed his blood,

He made me love it, too.

I run through the cornstalks like a haint,

Slip through the morning fog like a river spirit,

And just before you found me,

I was hiding in a silver maple.

When the anvil cloud came,

Its leaves turned over--

And when the pressure dropped,

So did I.



You, my favorite devil, said,

"Who are you, little fireball?'

Ain't nobody.

Never was.

As the funnel came across the farm land behind you,

You told me,

"Let me scoop you up,"

And I became your debris.

You were the first to make me shout out the savior's name,

But from my back,

Not my knees.

You were the first to say,

"Beautiful

Beautiful

Beautiful girl,"

And I broke apart in the storm of you, amazed and believing at last,

Crying for joy

In the swirl and devastation we lay in.



Well I don't care.



I knew you were a devil all along.

I am the daughter of two devils, after all,

And I can tell which shade of black is the one I love.

My friends all warned me, "That one is poison.

Did you drink it?

Did you?"

Not just yes, but hell yes,

And now I feel wicked beautiful.

If I have to live with lies, let them be your lies,

All down the rest of my life.

_______

Lone Star

There's a road
A two-lane blacktop
From Delaur Boulevard
To the smash-up at the end

Rolling down it on a summer night
The only car on the road;
If I still drank, I would hold the bottle out the window
Under warm stars whose light is just a memory,
Close my eyes and
Hold my arm straight out

Til the wind catches that bottle

And it sings

Like a spiritual.
_____________

(2006)

Fast Food (For Belle)

Dear readers: your friendly neighborhood poet has managed to mess up her left shoulder. Typing is mucho ouchie. So plz forgive me if I put up a re-post. This poem was written in 2006, and posted here in May 2008. It received big fat zero comments. Do over!

Fast Food (For Belle)


We fucked in your Hummer
In the Burger King lot.

Two orgasms you had
In the H2
In the Burger King lot.


I said,
"You sound so tuff when you cum"

There in the H2
In the Burger King lot.


You ran a finger under my nose,
And said, "Talk about having it your way!"

And we laughed like fools
In your H2
In the Burger King lot


(just a little bit south
of Heaven)

_________

Anna's Boots

The room was full that first time,

But I picked you out right away

As if you had called to me in a secret language,

Like a high tone that only dogs can hear.



When you found me,

I was screwing around with little cotton clouds

When what I had gotten a taste for

Was the whole damn sky.



You asked me, "Do you trust me, baby?

I want to see how far I can fling you."

I said yes, because I already knew

How angels and devils sometimes create beautiful sin out of half-holy alliances.



My favorite devil was gone, and I missed her--

Time had not shook loose of me yet;

And so I searched for her echo in our short weeks together,

But all that I found was a dissatisfying ticking, like boots on pavement, walking away.

______________

for Magpie 32

Proverb

    
     for Belle

In the garden,

There is a basin

On its pedestal

For the birds.



When the days turn sharp,

And it rains,

Red and yellow leaves collect there,

Making a strange dark tea.



The sight of it makes me remember you

And the time when no less wicked touch would do.



It makes no difference whether you deserved the love I gave you--

It was thrilling, and that is enough;

Because, my dear,

It's like you always told me:

A bird in dirty water

Sings just as beautifully.

________

For One Shot Wednesday

Fire Doll

You flamed me.

I blow like ashes,

I just can't keep it together anymore.

You were my sun and you

Scorched me, my warmth and you

Torched me...

So how do I write this poem, how do I

Live alone?

Not to worry Sweety,

Darling,

Baby,

It all burns except the bones.

__________________________

For A Southern Girl

I just can't seem to forget her

There's a brick on the accelerator

She lies like leaves off the trees

Every color I can think of

Such pretty words

Soft across my ears

I breathe them deep as they burn;

They bury my fears...

But, in the end, they are dead as anything,

As everything

Except my love.

Let me kiss you goodbye, then;

In an explosion of flames and gas

Splintered wood and shattered glass

I breathe deep as we burn;

They can bury me right here...

In the end, we are dead as anything,

As everything

Except my love.

_________________________________

Fast Food

We fucked in your Hummer

In the Burger King lot.

Two orgasms you had

In the H2

In the Burger King lot.

I said,

"You sound so tuff when you cum"

There in the H2

In the Burger King lot.

You ran a finger under my nose,

And said, "Talk about having it your way!"

And we laughed like fools

In your H2

In the Burger King lot

(just a little bit south

of Heaven)