Saturday, April 21, 2012
so i pull away
"youre not her"
i pass by every day and it doesnt mean shit to me any more really. i remember wakeing up on the living room floor still wearing my glasses. takeing them off to wipe the dry tears from the lenses. faint images. faint whispers of emotions. a long time ago reminding me of the significance this place once held.
it was wher poor people got married. pisas in cheap suits makeing an honest woman out of the pregnant teenager holding their anchor baby in her belly. the poor and the shamed that couldnt step foot in a catholic church under the condition she was in.
there was a bus depot there. a welded indian that i used to think was a robot when i was a little boy.
when i was a little boy
we got our rings at the mall from one of those booths that people rent when they dont have enough money to lease a real spot or just not enough merchandise to fill it up.
two bands of peweter
hers had fake gems in butterfly wings
mine was a circle of flowers that wraped around my finger
i have creepy memory that i wear like beautyfull scars of invisible tatoo in my skin
you cant see it
only if i show you
and then your horrified
she looked beautyfull. she was gleaming and shit. she was wearing a dress that seemed just a bit out of the times and just a bit odd this early in the morning. probably the dress her momma would put on to go out danceing when she was alive. she looked beautyfull.
she held on to his arm as he pushed the stroller. she was very animated. laughing and pointing yet very gingerly stride for stride with him. you could tell he didnt want to be up walking around this early but he could see how happy she was and that gave him a sense ease. a feeling of peace. like all the frantic prep work of looking for extra diapers, bottle of formula, bottle of water, baby toy, baby binkie, and wipes was all worth it. he was glad that she talked him into a stroll this morning.
i couldnt help but stare
i could feel her
every body could
she was radiating energy
i parked in front of the liquor store because all the spots in front of the donut shop were taken. i feel bad when i have to park ther because i wind up walking through the gauntlet of the scum when i park this far away and have to explain to them that i dont have any change.
"sorry all i got is my debit card"
wich seems like a jack ass excuse to poor people as you walk into a donut shop. i always think of that pile of shitty change sitting next to my computer. i dont care about it but they do. i dont need it.....but they do.
i recognized the girl at the donut shop some how but i dont talk to her on a personal level because im a pussy like that. thats what happens when im caught off guard and smitten.
Friday, April 13, 2012
I can’t even read my own writing at times-
Evidence of black holes in my mind
Subtle enough to question-
If they’re even there at all…
I remember everything being so huge
Life-sized skyscraper jungle-gyms
Being at the bottom of the pool
And looking up at rainbows.
I remember adults being cruel
And kids making up rules
You had to follow-or else.
I remember half believing in magic
Saving baby teeth and lucky pennies
Going under bridges into abandoned houses
Running into witches and ghosts.
I remember my toys being my best friends
I loved them so much and they loved me back.
I remember thinking my mom wasn’t my real mom
I was a lost princess
I’d run away into the mountains
I’d pack away some crackers and cheese
And they’d all be waiting there for me.
I remember being outside in the rain
Jumping puddles that were lakes and oceans
Being alone, I was happy.
Holes in my mind
I can’t read my writing sometimes
I remember riding my bike early
When no one’s awake
They’re in the house and I’m on the street
I didn’t wait for them.
There are holes and spaces
Things that happened that didn’t really happen.
I walked on the ceiling
And rode in the passenger seat of a car that was driving itself.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Pupils rolled back to the top of my sockets
Gazing up at the horizon line
Where the sun hides-
The earth built
That keeps others
From knowing we’re here.
Neck craned up to see what’s on the other side
Of the concrete wall
The people built
Who wanted to hide
Their landscaped paradise from us.
Who’s protecting who?