blue lagoon

let’s go swimming in a blue lagoon…
wouldn’t that be a dream to you?
lowring ourselves in the milky blue,
let lick our thighs and soothe our wounds…

a palindrome

she fell into a big, dark hole. she fell into a big, dark, down hole. a cold hole. the walls are dark. and it’s actually narrow. the floor is cold. her fingers, warm, bump against the crannies of the clay. the cold, clammy, clay. she has knees, but in this case they bang freely.

silhouette.

mine.

it sits behind me.

She forgets a lot.

she already forgot five years ago how hard you used to work.

she’d already Completely forgotten how easily you became infatuated with
men just by watching them…

i’m solving a hard problem.

i’m solving a hard problem.
the problem is how to -
why we -
how i -
ah

the problem is how to capture the gray purples
when the bright exotic red is…

the long and skinny

i wanted to write this poem
about tiny purple flowers
that grow on a hill
and i imagined
that it would be long and
skinny,
the poem,
and that it would go on
for pages and pages
so that it would definitely be,
or at least
feel,
worth
your
money;
but then just now
as i started
writing
it
i

model homes

They lived in model homes
so he knew exactly where to take her
when he carried her up the stairs.
Her house was like his house,
except their bed was in a different place
from his and his wife’s, which was by the bathroom,
whereas theirs was by the window.

a fond, tickling feeling
that i used to write

that words used to come to me
and splay their legs on my page

that i’d take a whisper
and let myself be seduced by it

thin

I was sitting next to her
and she was just crying. Crying and crying.
We were sitting in the dark theater
watching a play about slavery,
Father Comes Home from the Wars,
and at certain inexplicable moments,
she would just cry.

delirium

the little pink elephants
on delirium beer glasses
are the perfect gatekeepers to a good time

they promise titillating memories,
cheap thrills — guaranteed cliches
at the bottom of a golden dusty blonde

Girl writes thing.
Or, she waits for herself to write it.
In the back of the bus,
pen raised,
no — pen Tapping
expectantly.