spider smiles

It all makes sense
when I eat lunch.
Dinner is cold,
I’m unraveling
all of the mystery smiles,
the fake opinions
and the good jobs.

I concentrate
on word relationships,
sneaky blind dates.
I think if I could get them out,
maybe they’ll slow down.
Those charming adjectives,
and their arrogant nouns.

Are we all this scared?
I want to see
if it’s not just me.
I think about the spiders
in the downstairs bathroom.
They’ve probably see it all
I bet they have the answers.

permanence

We sit in sloppy nests
amidst the eggs of education.
Shy hands flag down ideas,
cheeks tinged red and sticky with hand sweat.
We croak our uncertainties,
tracing our heads
through the wiring
of text messages,
and laptops;
emails and due dates.

Doctors notes excuse absences,
while teacher’s mechanical smile
forgets what’s absent.
The girl with the dirty hair
lost her nest,
she trembles in her nakedness.
Black veiled bullet hole eyes
rolling, she thinks:
there’s no doctor’s note
for a broken heart.

Mirrors should learn their manners,
white lies soften black eyes.
It was permanent, I whisper.
But the thing is
no one bothered telling me
about the nightmares.
I wash my hair these days,
my eyes are green.
They color me with potential,
but I don’t forget that girl.

you have to

It’s December, your rough hands crack with cold.
Slip on the city stained ice, tripped by the sinister cold.

You got on the bus, tapped your pass, it’s expired you’re told.
Get off the bus and hear your bones moaning “cold.”

Today the whiskey crazed scarecrow by the red line grew old.
He slumps, rasping “we’re all dying anyway” and smiles against the cold.

Lipstick lady sweats diamonds in her fur coat, feeling so bold.
She hands him a twenty dollar bill, not knowing he’ll still be cold.

It’s December, you’re so sorry but you need to put that one on hold.
It’s life, not a phone call! They scream. But all you think is it’s just too cold.

road animal

The pavement snarls
vibrant shades
of stony viciousness

Sometimes a bitter animal
its cynicism sparks
my demise

Leaping out
dotted yellow teeth
black cavities

I surrender
my flailing body
as its casualty

The wheels
of my slaughtered bicycle
glitter with our defeat

fabrication

We begin,

born an oxymoron,

sitting parallel

in hazardous

safety.



We perched

on green thrones,

the cat

on my arm

caught staring.



We end.

Died a fabrication,

sitting side by side

from 385 miles

apart.