sometimes it's heavy and sometimes we float

Once more,
just to remind you,
we will all be okay

you, my dear,
will be just fine

maybe

Maybe
but
maybe not
mi osita
you can't choose who you love
mi perra
you choose who will break your heart
maybe
but
maybe not

cigarettes

you were
a pack of cigarettes
i was
addicted
to you



these days
i smoke a lot
less
and cough a little
more

WE WILL BE OKAY!

I left you for the water
and the air
that I need
I left you for the smiles
and the sanity
I found a small sea shell
in the remains of the hurricane
beautiful and broken
I found myself in
the coldest months of winter
curled up, and she,
she was there to tell me
no, you are beautiful,
keep yourself warm,
you can come inside anytime.
I found a steady hand,
in my pocket,
holding what I gave away
somewhere inside,
our minds
saying, we will ride roller coasters
and we will
be
okay.

God Say The Same (working)

I live in a city
where speaking of murder
every morning
is as common as asking the waitress
for another cup of coffee.

It makes me angry,
New Orleans,
makes me dream angry dreams.

Boy was six years old
with a pellet gun in his waistband
putty knife in his hand,
his accomplice three years old
stealing cigarettes and candy.
What have your baby brown eyes seen?

Murder, murder, murder
She's a pregnant woman
collecting gifts
for a child without a father
wondering how much longer

It makes me angry
to see the pain in the cracks of the street
to hear the sirens sigh of defeat
always too late
always someone's son down
Bloody mothers cradling the dead

It is too common
too comfortable in our pain

I have been to your cemetery
I wanted to hold you like you held him
as your baby died in your arms.
New Orleans,
you make me angry.

My child has
no
home.

me

Machine heart
organic tongue
nothing but narcissism
nothing but me me me
Machine mind
organic eyes
nothing but you you you
in relation to me

A quick something before I go

A quick something
before I go
a magnet on the fridge
reminding you to be excited
for your future
Letting you know
I want you to smile

it's gone

twotwentyseven a.m.
dipping my scarf in cold piss
on the bathroom floor
squatting
squint eyes
staring
for a pen mark
on the wooden wall
i wrote once
drunk
i love you
shaking
blurry nights
blend in black
fuzzy eyes
i drunkenly declare
we're gone

dreamboat

I made a paper dreamboat
watched it float
through my fingers
built a moat
around my beating vessels
let it sink
lovers drown
built a grave
lowered down
watched the cement come apart
watched the glue come undone
wondered why
my dreamboat didn't fly
wondered why
when the puzzles pieces didn't fit
threw a fit
slammed them down, way down,
I cheated and it felt
alright.

my little naked

Honey, get your coat on
you know it's getting colder
my little naked, you've gone crazy
child, please don't chase me
let's stop our drinking
get some soup and watch a movie

my little naked,
you've gone crazy
burning matches
drunk in traffic

my little naked,
i read your letters
honey, why'd you hurt me
my little child, you're so angry
go to sleep and start your dreaming

my only friends are strangers
but now,
i think,
it is better to have broken conversations
with the passers by
than to sit with you for hours
talking and talking

all my foreign friends
i'm sad to see them go
but you,
well,
have fun in Europe,
i hope you stay there

i never ever want to speak to you again

Just for today.

Just for today,
let's hook up your wires
to my wires
and make each other
happy.

Let's be honest, this is not poetry, this is goodbye!

iguessthisisgrownuplifeiwantittostopicant bringmyselftoevenbleedanymore it isnt worth it i have turned into a monster my face is ugly my dreams are ugly i want to die i wish it would just happen somehow and no one could be blamed and we could have good memories iwishi would havemet youwithout*her even my dreamssayyouwantheryou want her and i see it all the time ifeellikeilietomyself when i amhappy sheisyoursecretdream that isnt such a well kept secret youve tried to hide her but youcantlet go and i cant let go maybe its why we sre together and it endsjustlike it began with that song the part where you let go i pushed you to let her go i shouldnt have i was selfish i am still selfish you need to be with her and you will tell me no but i think deep insideyou want it you hide it your little secret your love you wish wouldnt have ended i hope that if we break up we can leave each other and never speak again because i dont want anyone to get hurt from us i really loveyouyou are hte only thing i live for and that causes pressure i am sorry i will find other things but iwish it was perfect i wish we could have a wedding and be really happy its a childsdreamiknow ijustthought it could be us and i dont know is this the part where we let go the song is this the partisit does anyone know i wish my life didnt lose all its meaning i wish i never met you with *her i wish you would have asked *her to stop calling somuchwheniasked you to i should have understood you didnt want to let her gowell i will try to let you goand ifyou moveon and ask your boyfriend or your girlfriend asks you to tell me to stop tlking i will stop talking i oweyouthat i really am proud of you you are the most successful person our age that i know so many great things you are so smartyouwill make a good wife to someone and a good mothermaybei will move to a new country an island and i'll talk poetry to myself i will always be here for you unless i shouldnt be but i will never be here too much if thats what you want and when someone else comes along for you i will back away you wont have to worry about letting go i will try for us i am weak but strong sometimes maybe i will get in a car wreck here or stabbed like other women in new orleans i am proud of you you have done so much already i hope you figureout what you want with *herihink it is something deep down maybe i am crazy but even my dreams think so i think you know too maybeiam crazy who knows you shouldnt bewith a crazy person i wish i ould say i cut my finger on purpose i cant process pain anymorenoteveninflicting it itjust steeps likeateabag boiling down in myinsides i guess thisi goodbye or maybe noti dont know what to dowhatyouwant but i am wearing you out and you needtoremember how young you are i make you old maybeeverything is finemaybe we can be happy forever but i am probably crazy tosay thatsoundslike youalready knowitwont happen i wish i was in the mountains goodbye silvye i love you in a way i have never loved another person in the strongest saddest way kindoflove i really do thank you for being a partofmylife forhelping me so often i wish things weredifferent i wish we were blades of grass goodbye.

don't worry, i know

every other day
or every third day
i am better than okay

ava, she's real now
she's drinking a red wine that i cannot spell

and carolina,
storey, and amber

how i look at you
with these child eyes

you are so beautiful

for me, it hurts to pee
for me, i cannot see below my belly

i want to meet your child
when he talks
i already know
messiah holds his breath

lesbian

fucked all the boys
in the army

win
war is over

still a lesbian

booze

bottled breast milk
booze
mother
I loved her
but I've grown up
sipping from my
grown up cup
brown bagged breasts
warm chest
desire
desire
to sleep like a baby
to cry like a little girl

red, black

Red wire
Black wire
We're trying to love each other
Touchy loose
sparks in the fire
She's trying her best
to give her all
red magnet
black magnet
she's pushing and pulling
trying her very best

Hello?

Hello?

Just wanted to let you know

I want to be your housewife.

if you want me to.

Can't find your name anywhere on the internet

blue scooters
false pride
blue house
bus rides
laughter, oh the laughter,
the smell of your fragile body worn out
fifty cents
screams
all of the whispering
broken chair
bullied blue faced
baby boy
brother
memory covered
in green paint
yellow paint
was it orgasm
was it orgasm
the end all be all
last breath
blanket
shame faced
who murderers
what a way to go
was it worth it
star trek
was it worth it
are you happy yet
did you do it
boy scout
noose knots
after thoughts
in the quiet streets
one last
prehistoric animal screech
ambulance tires
i was on the sidewalk
laughing, laughing
showing off
did we care
why am i sitting here
broken chair
broken boy
pants down
feet up
how did they find you
little brother
step father mother
swinging of you body
cold and white
kids who pushed you
wearing ties
cutting classes
all the third grade boys
looking up
confused
clenching souvenirs
blank permission slips
you genius
where are you now
insubordinate fool
you would have been our boss
you would have taken care of us
where are you now?

Good Friday

Father
threw her hair into the dumpster

It was Good Friday

The birds did not sing

man monsters

Monsters
you've been with
men
man monsters
i am not prepared
should have been
but I am sick
it is
sickening
men.

Love

Love
is a brown pug
chasing a black lab
across North Claiborne
on a Friday night

ya lawya

I did yr bckgrnd chk
n 1994
ya drove vry fast
ya austrian

ya lawya
housewif mybe

ya drove
hi on ccain
with yr top down
clssic cr
cntry rd

ya see thru shawl
blwn n the wnd
ltl pnk nipls
cld n erct

ya smkd thn cigrets
drunk on wne
ya felon
ya butifl austrian

ya butrfly
ya lawya

call me that

call me
silly
call me baby
call me
lover
say you love me
spell hunny funny
call me that

celebration funeral

don't have your matches
anymore
don't have you knocking at my door

got clean laundry
my own place
my own bed
thinking with

ha
my own head
of course
you're calling
calling
calling

you're making exceptions
deceptions
headed to
wedding receptions

with the old gang
we'll all be dancing
drinking
dancing

the night away
the past back in
the future on

drinking
and
dancing

woman bear

hairy bear
Woman
bear

momma bear
NO
papa bear

hairy.
Woman.
bear.

Woman bear
eat
baby bear

momma bear
full of hair

papa bear
baby bear
all
hairy Woman bear

Mother hen

Mother hen,
I'm going to eat

your children


Mother hen,

I'm not after you,
I'm after them


Mother hen,

I'm going to smash
your baby girl
right here on this dirt floor

I don't care

over, done, end

I'm listening to that
cd I made
Valentine's day

I loved you more,
nothing wrong with that,
I suppose

It's over now
and you think
in the morning
we'll wake up renewed

only you

I'm over, done
look what we've become
a nothing
a greedy fish
in a too forgiving pond

well, honey,
I've dried up

you'll breathe it
feel it
soon enough

you expect too much
but hour
after hour
I will not kill myself
for you any longer

don't ride that plane,
baby, have no shame,
sleeping outside some other girl's door.

Post

Post Katrina,
she said no one expects me to know
and I don't need to try

but hurricanes swirl in my eyes
Post Love
Post Everything

I can imagine
all the crying Buddhas
all the floating Buddhas

I imagine
it must be
like your lover dying
late at night
before you kissed
her
on the cheek

Gone

your t-shirt
has lost its smell

like the closets
when Paul died

Remember the time

I remember the time
I dug underneath
your eyelids
and felt your
sockets
so sweet
while you molested
me

End Cycle

The beginning
of the end
How fragile love is!

And loving too much
too hard
how deep is my navel scar!

Soul Mates, haha

It's funny
because
I don't want the chance
to find a different you
no motivation to

and maybe if
some girl out there
could make me laugh louder
cry softer
I wish her well

Hope she shares her gift
with someone who needs it
but me,
I'm just fine
even better
laughing with you
crying for you
calling you

soul mate
even if it's not true
I'm happy to
assume it's you

Why ask for more
than loving you?

I, Fish Eye

spark plug fingertip
you're my Emma
you're my jelly bean
e v e r y t h i n g
wrapped around my face
light blue

they say I looked like you,
no,
you looked like me
e v e r y b o d y
dreams the same dream

we called you soul mate
you give us all we need
I, Linus,
you, blanket.
I, fish eye,
you, greatest catch.

Change

new city is beautiful,
but not mine
the waves
are not the rise and fall
of your sleeping chest

your small breasts
more beautiful than
the golden crest
fleur de lis
nothing to me

like the
the landscape
of your olive skin
fertile garden
I belong in

Here, I plant my seeds
singing, "temporary!"
planting to
prove to you
my love.

Sorry

Sorry
for the stains on the ceiling
and the carpet

Sorry
for the bottles
and cans
in the kitchen

Sorry
for the scars
on my belly
and your wrist

Sorry
for the smashed bug
on the wall

Sorry
for the cigarette butts
in the slanted fence

Sorry
for being drunk
all of the time

Sorry
for thinking I love you more
when I love you faulty.

Pam

Pam, you are a splitting image
of Linda,
but you think you look
just like God

Small Pleasures

You, boy lover,
take me here,
in the parking lot,
in the rain puddle,
in front of the yellow windows
Between cars,
we are
naked
part girls
part boys
caught by the camp counselor
she,
part girl,
part boy

parent child

we both put on
our baby faces
fat cheeked frowns

why don't you call?
no, why don't you call?

Advertisement Jelly

fat jelly
skin jelly
sin jelly

who's gonna win jelly

leg jelly
meat jelly
me jelly

glued to the tv jelly

need jelly
eat jelly
feed jelly

commercials selling me jelly

In the Funk

Breathing has become
such a heavy chore
the weight of working
is not justified anymore

light blue smell of you
now an allergic reaction to
the fighting
pains



I wish it could be the same
as that one day, last November
we were happy
and we held on
to the bedsheets
memories

Kiss me on the cheek
as you leave
while I'm sleeping dreaming
of fires and books
dreams of you
telling me
tomorrow will be
better

Silvye, please come home
I'm feeling especially alone
I need you
to remind me
of what we
can be
have been
and tell me
what we
have become

mariachi

i'm breakin' you apart
my little mexican harp
left the whole mariachi band
in the damned bus station

got the blues now
backpacked blue bag
bottles of beer

gonna drink myself
sing myself
sink
right on out of here

Apology

When i said Hallelujah
i was happy,
did not mean harm,
he is beautiful
a blue eyed
universe

That's life.

I've been writing poetry
every day

"I'm tired
tired"
tired"

"I knew a mormon once,
she was a good girl,
a nice girl"

Now I read the news.

I can't stop thinking
that when I come back
I'll be a blade of grass.

Father's

What a great dad.

We've been
playing
hide and seek
for twenty two years.

Breaking up, it's hard to do.

You know
You’re special
When she says
She will leave her life

After it’s too late
And you know
She won’t

Mornings alone poems.

June

June already
Almost two months
I’m better
Better better

Better
I’ve hung
Drawings on my door
Goodbye my Love!

Hello,
My Love
When will you leave?

It’s June June June
My favorite month
And you are still here

Who are we fooling
The weather is hot
I am missing your good nights
Torturing hot

Blame the tears on
The heat heat heat
The heat
Before June




Hallelujah

Hallelujah!
The bruise on my calf is now yellow.
Ryan’s harmonica found it’s way to West Virginia.
I am home alone in an empty town.
My nephew has plastic inside his skull.
He can’t walk yet, can’t talk yet.
My dying dog is playful and young.
The radio repeats itself, “Ping pong”.
Dad left me something green to smoke.
Our vacation pictures are getting developed.
I’ll mail them to you soon.



Untitled

If you ever read my
Understood my
Listened to my
Poetry
You’d still be trying
Calling
Messaging
You’d know
I miss you
I want you
I won’t give in
But all those years I wrote you poetry
Woke you up and sang to you
Made you books and cried
You never got it then
Never tried



Mountain


Mom says,
“Was she really so bad?
Maybe I didn’t see it.
Could you try again?”

Mother,
If I climb up the mountain
With anyone else
I will fall six hundred feet.
But if I sneak away
And climb it alone
I will be happy
With the toilet and clothes.

Even Now

Every lover after
will beg for an explanation
for the raised scars below my navel
for my balancing acts above the overpass

How can I pronounce your name
without saying too much
without getting drunk

Even now,
everyone is tired
of me
slipping you into the conversation
swirling you into my watered rum
and spilling you on their carpet floors

What If

What if
you quit your job
and run away with me?

VCR

You left
the VCR on

trying to adjust
to change

I hope

I hope your plastic yogurt spoon
Breaks in your mouth
And cuts your tongue
And you confuse your blood
With swirls of strawberry

I hope it tastes good
Just like
When you cut my tongue
And confused my blood
With red wine
And acted drunk
And foolish

I, Cannibal

In mother’s yard,
beneath the snow,
We found a body
in my bedtime clothes.

We tugged on the cadaver’s feet
only to discover the dead body
blue cheeked
belonged to another me

Shocked, I brushed the snow off her face
watched the dead awake

She said she had been sleeping,
the dead me,
in the summer’s grass
many months had passed
asleep through the snow


We woke her
Proceeded to go

Chased by the feeling of disgust
an afternoon lunch
shredded meat
my dead body

I, Cannibal,
crave my own flesh
consumed with my own mess,
asleep in the summer snow.

Back Roads

After you
I take a new route
back roads
to a new home

to avoid you
to get through
the loneliness

and I act like I hate it
when you call
but I crave
to know you care

something I can’t allow myself
to do anymore
but I do it
anyway

Mojitos

Isn't it funny
that after I left you,
the thing that hurt the most
was reading the recipes
of the nine best Mojitos

I wanted to share them with you
maybe
invite you for a drink
knowing it is wrong
and we can't

Under the Mat (work in progress)

You dropped off the key while I was away
You were drinking and I was learning
the effects of drinking
Today I left
the key under the mat

Correctional Facility

My backyard is a woman's
correctional facility,
a stepping stone
from prison to freedom

In the summer
I smoke on my third story balcony
I watch the women
over the green fences

Until yesterday
I never caught more
than braiding hair
and muffled conversation

But now
I have heard two women
yell across the fences
"I love you"

I knew it wasn't just a friendly love
or a family love
there was passion in the yelling
"I will be there waiting for you"

What crimes of passion
we all commit

Anti-War

My friends and I took part in this anti-war and occupations protest in Chicago on March 19, 2010.

Look for us around 3:30. I'm flipping the peace sign.

Poem like Searching- A Poetic Manifesto

Uncle Bob's crazy wife Laura,
a recovering drunk,
is stupid and says the word nigger
knows all about poetry
knows nothin'
not a damn thing

Lady pukes a heaping two cups
brown steaming dog vomit
on green shag carpet
treasure like a found poem
on Mom's living room floor

Laura knows all about poetry
on her knees
searching through the vomit
with bare hands
huntin' for white worms
huntin' to make something out of nothin'

Fingering what looks like refried beans
trying to find meaning
she doesn't wear gloves
says it's what you've gotta do
Laura knows all about poetry searching
she doesn't know a damn thing

Laura, relapsing alcoholic,
proud with brown hands
scooping vomit in the waste can
She does a thorough job
there aren't always white worms,
She'll make sure to find 'em

Next time that goddamn dog gets sick, you save it for me, Lindsey

Laura knows all about poetry, no nothin', not a damn thing.

Lottery

We had no luck this week
with the scratch off lottery

You took me home
drove without the headlights on
stared at your phone

We rode with the radio on
volume up

Improvise

There will be

A pink scar

on my

index finger

from a cut

I got a few

weeks back

when I tried

to open your

beer bottle

with a kitchen

sink-stopper

in a hotel.

The deep cut

was a flesh trench

you filled with

lime juice

when you pierced

and drained

the fruit with a

small red

coffee straw.

I have many scars

but this one

will be my favorite.

hello

Can't help but to sing,

"I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in and stops my mind from wandering

where it will go

I'm filling the cracks that ran through the door and kept my mind from wandering
Where it will go
And it really doesn't matter
if I'm wrong
I'm right
where I belong
I'm right
where I belong."

Oh New Orleans. Take me back and let me help you!
NOLA Relief Trip. 01/2010

Skinnylittlegirl

Her body is a third world country
starving for attention

Gold Medal

I found your Olympic gold medal
while I was cleaning my childhood bedroom.
I almost vacuumed it up.

I can’t help but wonder how it got on my floor,
how you must have not noticed it missing from your empty apartment.

I wonder if during one of those fights we used to have
I slipped it in my pocket, thinking you never deserved it.

I laid the medal on my old desk
next to a trick dog coin bank.

The dog holds the coin in his mouth,
jumps through the hoop, and hides the coin in a brown barrel.

This childish desk is a circus.
I can see the levers and
your Olympic gold medal is fading in the sunlight.

HIGH ART

Past is Present

I study the fall of the Sudanese,
the merciless killing of fathers and brothers,
the sacred calves butchered and sold.
I think of your mother, the stories you have told,
her secrets revealed to you by an electric third party
twenty years later.

You read about the murder of your grandmother,
the rebel army of your mother,
and the snide remarks from your aunts and uncles.

They blame the pregnant woman holding you,
who helplessly watched as the rebels slaughtered
the pregnant woman who once held her.

Your mother, as she lay on the floor in the hotel
watching her mother’s sinews rip and tear,
hid you, and now the memories,
still pregnant with the truth.

I asked you once,
after your family escaped,
and fled as refugees,
just how you survived in America.

I understand now,
your lack of an answer,
with the pain and honesty
that it is too hard.

I will not hurt you,
I will pour glass after glass,
and never ask you to fill me.

I will build a womb of security,
to hide you, if you’d like.
I will never ask you to come out.

American Legion

Woman preacher,
they don’t believe a word you say,
standing up there, talking.
Your breasts shifting when you raise your hands
in praise.
Serve him!
Preacher thing,
tend the bar.
Offer the blood and the bones of Christ.
You do so well,
woman preacher.
Give up your body
to the hungry
and their devouring looks.
Impregnate the world.
Girl thing.
No one is listening.
What God do you praise?
Which one?
Which stool holds the god-man
you serve?

Dead Man Words

Two weeks dreaming about my dead father has finally got to me.
He is not dead but I left him in the bathtub for three days and he is surely dead by now.

We drag his body. My mother and I carry him back and fourth through the dim hall.
We do not know where to go. He is dead saying my name but my mother is screaming no.

His body is settling, she says. Ignore his words. I’m sorry.
They are not words, just sounds, air pockets of gas. He does not say your name, she says.

But he keeps talking and talking and there is an ink drawing of me dead on his shirt pocket.
He is afraid it has scared me away, but how can he say? He has been dead for three days.

He knows I am dead in the ink picture over his heart and he is crying.
I am not surprised. I am dead to him. The picture is not pushing me away.

It’s the talking, talking. Dead man words I’ve never heard before. He is not alive.
My mother hums as she cooks dinner. She is used to the dead man talking. She is not afraid.

But I watch him. Wait for him to die, again. It is not real, but I feel I’ve been here before.
I want to help mother cook. I am not afraid that he is dead. He has been dead for three days.

But why all the dead man talking now? Isn’t it too late? Shouldn’t he be in his grave?
He is talking, talking. Crying and saying sorry. Dead man words I’ve never heard before.

Calamari

Remember the time mom said fuck when we were in the car and we were scared even though we whispered the word back and forth plenty of times before
behind her back listening to rap music and telling each other to go fuck a horse?
Well, we didn’t understand.

It was like ordering from the adult menu even though we had no idea what calamari was but it sounded cool and we spit it out on the restaurant floor as soon as mom told us it was squid.

But when mom said fuck in the car we could see that squid caught in green algae-coated ropes hanging below the large fishing boat
and the short silence after she spoke was a knife cutting all the porous tentacles in
bite-sizes to be dipped into batter

Three hundred and seventy five degrees frying oil as
our 1992 Chevy Camaro collided into the Astro van ahead of us

Sympathy

I do admit
I watched the neighbor’s dog
run and get hit
and felt bad a little bit
but he shouldn’t have been
chasing dreams and things
in rush hour

Barrel Cactus

I have been talking
to my Barrel cactus
for the last few days.

It reminds me of you,
an enchanting flower
protected by sharp spines.

It does not talk.

We do not touch.

I watch it grow
but it does not change.
I give it water it does not need.

I feel nostalgic.
I have been talking to my cactus
for a long time now.