cells [a poem]

sun burn, when all your uncovered cells are given flamethrowers and a hot shower trades  drops of comfort for gasoline—embarrassment is like that Continue reading

Sludge [a poem about the Universe]

primordial.soup2

what if an asteroid shot it’s way past Jupiter and through our atmosphere?
what if it rocked earth off course and sent us out rogue into space?
would we find another star?
a g2? or a super giant that would swallow us up?
what if we launched off on a rocket to look for another home?
perhaps a super earth would solve our overpopulated city problem
twice the space
what’s on the other side of a black hole?
is that where slender man came from?
stretched his way through a wormhole faster than light can go?
why are our bodies so fragile?
why are our lives so short?
did methuselah really live nearly a thousand years?
was it because we had a thicker atmosphere back then?
or because eating unprocessed foods was the only available option?
is that part of what’s killing us at barely a tenth of methuselah’s lifespan?
where does god live?
is hell really fire forever?
why would satan stay?
doesn’t he have any power or real estate savvy?
is that the last thing we know: heaven and hell?
if everything in the universe is predetermined, life has no purpose
and this class along with every action guided action means nothing at all
are we no better than primordial sludge?

photo credit: crystalinks.com

irises

pictures from before i was born, before papa got sick
he looked like a fine young soldier, even though he wasn’t ever sent to war
he’s with his wife, a friend, a baby, sitting on the stern of a boat
dancing at his daughter’s wedding, white tux, black bow tie

stout face, taut cheeks, sharp smile—i can see his daughter
there’s a few where she’s trying hard to look like him
to look at him, to get him to look at her, to get him to see
a few where i think she’s human

there’s his irises, the old house on dewey ave where nana died
there’s one where he’s shaping gnocchi’s, two hundred at least, all by hand
he called me once at seven am on a saturday to bulk bake
peanut butter pies, months before the microwave burnt the house down

there’s a few right when he got sick: dress, cigarette, head down
eyes down cheeks starting to cave down on his smile
anyone can see she’s his daughter

lump

revised version of “false”

my soul is a dingy, unlovable lump—I know because mommy tells me
and mommy is God, if I disobey fire will spread and ash me out
I’ll eat only when she serves attention

I make believe I’m loved
put on grand productions in my head—reviews label my scenes tragic
but if I can just smile wide and laugh loud enough to fool my audience
I can trick myself into believing too, then I can hide forever

I beg forgiveness but my parts are mute
I abandoned us here to rot a long time ago, chopped of our needs
sacrificed my own self for a light, wisp of attention, a puny hope of a fix
for my disparate soul, an emaciated love

I forgot myself
how can I possibly let that go?
how can I possibly not?

false [combined version]

I open up and light scorches my lids, breath seeps in
I blink and am quiet, I don’t cry or scream, I take you
in and know my place before knowing my own self
you’re so proud
I giggle and dance on command while you shower
praises over top me, I know just what to do to make you love me
I am who you always wanted to be and you devour me whole
I forget myself
my soul is a dingy, unlovable lump, I know because mommy tells me
mommy is God, if I disobey fire will spread my whole body
ash me out entirely—I’ll eat only when mommy serves attention
I am starving
I slop up wisps when no one’s looking I’m positive I’ll die soon
mommy will snuff me out and be relieved of the burden
I push down little Hannah tell her how bad she is, cackle at her weakness
leave her alone
in the dark for a very long time—she emaciates and cries out, I will not look
I pretend none of it matters, try to take from others what mommy cannot give
they cling desperately to their own little scraps and I know then how
lost I truly am
I chop off my needs and lock them up with little Hannah, don’t talk or trust
fill my head with music to drown out mommy’s rage but I cannot quiet
her sharp voice, tainting my thoughts, splintering my feelings
I make believe
I’m loved, put on grand productions in my head—reviews label my scenes tragic
but if I can just smile wide and laugh loud enough to fool my audience maybe I can trick
myself into believing too, it works for years, I think that I can hide forever
I am false
where have I gone? I miss my breath deep, rhythmic, pulsing in my chest
filling me up with the season—I think my eyes burst
I cannot get the gunk out of their holes
can you see me God?
are you that movement at my side? is it you gnawing, slathering my bits
across your jowl? I can feel heat scorching, spreading over my whole body
I’m sorry, I’m so very, very sorry but my
parts are mute
I abandoned us here to rot a long time ago sacrificed my own self
for a light, wisp of attention, a puny hope of a fix
for my disparate soul, an emaciated love
how can I possibly let that go?
how can I possibly not?