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mostly stichomancic new yorker poem #4

Conformity is right for you, ask
your advisor, only a minute walk
from neveragainland. A sharp
potentially uncontrollable increase
in threat. This is modernism in both
thought and action. This is like moving
to Munich. Who is going to take care
of you? Maybe he's protecting a world
he loves from a world he hasn't had time
to mend. Nothing is more valuable than
leaving a good history behind.
No such luck. Life is totally about losing
everything. It's always perilous to predict
the end. For instance, pomegranate flowers,
oversized and blood red, turn upward.
Manuscripts in bookstores, libraries,
countless watercolors in her studio
on the second floor. I suppose it was
a strange childhood, but it defined
their lives. The wound feels like a great
inflamed jewel glowing in the dark.
I did not accuse a single angel.
Without psychosexual drama, without
well, getting fucked, she might just grow
a beard. He waits for more, but there is no
more. A warm, steamy rain comes next.

what the kids say

(slang list poem by 12 and 13 year olds in a creative writing class at san francisco school of the arts)

WTF
LAWL
Roflcopter
LMAO
Fo’shizzle
OMG
That’s deep
Wash te
Got water
Biotch
Abe
Mango
Pie muncher
Shiznit
ABC
FOB
Booyakasha
Lolaskates
Pennyho
Fetch
Don’t make me drop you
Bubba
Holy Cow
Oh my God, Becky
Zadon
Battle of the Birds
TMI

runaway bride

"The report from Georgia investigators said she broke off an earlier engagement to another man, and — even though she had been in a relationship with Mason since August 2004 — she kept "I love you" text messages on her cell phone from another man she dated in 2003...'

And what happens to deleted text messages, emails, erased answering messages from old loves? Do they float up into some hovering cyber joseph cornell museum, get filed in some digital underworld like cocteau's orphee? Would erasing those words have made her less pathological, more equipped to be a "wife"? Less of a narcissist? I don't trust the clean slate. I spend too much time in the unconscious to believe a man who says he's shut the door on the past. I'd rather admit there's a lineage in the bed, dust of old lovers in your hair, your chest, the cells that helped get you goldenly here.

A list of dreams

Age 6: Being chased by hamburgler through a parking lot; a jar of tang gives off evil orange vibes
Age 12: Drowning in a pool of blood.
Age 16) Classroom of kids replaced with blank black eyed children singing purple rain in a circle. One drops hands and screams: remember the anchorman!
Age 21) My body has drawers like that Dali painting
Age 27) I'm trying to cross the country to get to a funeral on time.
Age 28) I'm crawling out my window at age 14 with the one who died.
Age 30) There is a very long couch on my porch. E. comes over to sit on it to see what it feels like to be me.
Age 31) I make a videotape of Bill Clinton showing his cock.
Age 35) I am at a restaurant where one of the menu items is one's own gallbladder. They surgically remove it and serve it to you with a blood orange sauce over greens.

c

middle of the night with my mom asleep in my room again. her breath and the electric sigh of the fridge taunt me. nobody reads this, but they could. gave my writing to the man who sits across from me today, and now I can read it over and imagine him reading it. unfortunately, this is still the way I love; alone and rewinding.

There is no letter that lies facing the c, facing inward. s is hiding something. b has a wall up.

only a sith thinks in absolutes

He was compact and smiling
like an extra organ

sometimes a woman's wedding ring can fit around its wrist

take me back to my cage, please

After his brief flash of assertiveness:
"I will send you home with food on helicopters"
A physical gap had opened between the rest of us

We have to deal with things like our parents
A kind of torpor which deprives them of all power of discrimination

His grin has the suddenness of the of the madly enthusiastic

It touched her more nakedly
because he did it without irony