Blackbird Pie

....I'm sure there are a few who could fit those shoes, but maybe you don't see the torn-up parts disguised as fringe on this working facade...like a soldier who gathers up his guts, I'm programmed to get through it to get home, even if I'm dead wrong.

They have all sorts of theories. But it's true, I did end it myself. And in the nude, too. Why not? They would have stripped me down anyway, exposed me, something to tell their other golf-buddy morticians about. After all, what am I if not big breasts, hips, legs and lips all here for the enjoyment of the world? So I saved them the time and trouble.

They have no notion of the loneliness. What a lonely world it is when you don't have a real friend --- when everyone who calls him or herself a friend only wants to be me or fuck me. I think, perhaps, had anyone ever desired to just hold my hand or lie beside me in comfort and not as a lover, I might have been able to go on. But not one soul wanted me like that. My body was the vehicle to my success and my destruction. And they, with endless drive to use me up and make less of me.

They say I should have tried to be less sexy if I did not want this response. Sexy. A word I grew so tired of. As if my entire being was only about sex. As if I were a glorified blow-up doll with no real feelings or ordinary desires. My well-cultivated image gave me power I never had before, power to be my own woman, if not my own friend. My true intentions be damned, for I am allowed to be nothing but this vapid sexpot.

And how they hated me, those who could not have me, those who did have me, those who would not take me seriously. Their lust mixed with their hate and I faced an animal world where the beasts made mating calls before they took me down, their teeth in my neck.

Never enough. That was the rub. Whatever I gave, it was never enough. They mocked me, tried to ruin me, still trying all the while to make sure they had the next number in line for my bedroom. So I lay down, naked, completely surrendered to the world that made me this great whore and gave into the notion that, otherwise, I am undeserving of their love.

'During the fin de siecle women were sometimes portrayed as weightless and floating, held aloft by invisible forces that freed their feet from the earth and directed their paths...

'Walking was too deliberate an act ... but to float was to surrender, to release your fate to something stronger...To hover above the ground is to admit that you are without will.'

still,
i breathe
while i lie in wait
my face turned toward the wall
i've already heard what's coming
no need to see another one passing by
no need to offend my eyes with
what cannot touch my soul
when they take me
for granted
with the grain
for proverbial rides
to no new heights
when they take me
off their minds
out of circulation
off a list
out of the question
into their personal oblivions
of passing fancies
passing my panties around
(stolen from the laundry)
with further claims
to some infamy untrue
some pain i never felt
but i am despite them
and to spite them
quite
here
still.

like a desert weeks after a surprise rain
i no longer miss the feeling
i am as i was and as you see
desolate, silent, empty
and buzzards follow footprints
and i wish them luck in
finding that thing that had
traipsed through the heart
carelessly, indifferently
bringing another mirage
and i hope they find him weak
and scavenge that which i cannot.

550pm

it's funny how they belittle attention to details... how expectations for better is bad and this is no place for observant bitches and they dig around searching for the glitches in the system ... and settle for the small ones. oh, i make mistakes. you betcha. big, grinding, obvious errors --- in judgment mostly, which is funny if you know me. but they don't and they won't, because, despite my flaws, i'm now less trusting, less impressionable, and i catch on quickly. the mistakes are fewer and farther between, and, the truth is they don't know me. they know nothing.

crumbs of half-interest, reduced trust, cut-rate devotion
remain behind, haphazardly lining the aisles of the stores
of mankind where no sales are final without the hidden fees:
regret, foolishness, waste of time and there seem to be
no returns on decency, always in short supply,
with a surplus on pre-fabricated sentiments,
i will go without before i buy.

- 530pm

this is what it always feels like
and i should know my poison by now
the healer said, "you know what he is,
"do you not?"
and i smiled and said, "i should fear
"the soul-less more."
but i don't.
my guts know better
the withdrawal pains start
before the glass hits the floor
and it's too hard not to
just sleep
and let it be
drawn deeper into death
and apathy
the longer it goes on
until i have no feelings
one way or the other
about leaving everything behind.

boxes will only hold so much.

quick, my quicksilver tongue has just sprung loose and loosed the cage of some condemned thing and it dances in chains that hold to nothing stops its spins and complains of nowhere else to go. so i go tossing matches at old, rickety bridges begging to be burned with their same sad, old ghost stories the back and forth is no more the unmoving uselessness of trapped souls. come with me i have said but they're bound familiarly to the fear of the unknown and trust not such as me is the trail guide of hope.

serial games of tag
you're it
can't catch me
can't catch me
can't catch me
and maybe i'm not
the only one
likely
to lean on the tree
watch you circling
and dare to just
stand there
and be
not disappointed
not insulted
at this your game.

-320am

not for me,
i think.
that sugar on
the rim of
my bitter
cup of tea.
it's there
and sweet,
i think,
but it's
not meant
for me.

-1005pm

i tiptoe around it
i know how things flee
when approached too closely.
if i stood very still and
reached my hand out slowly
head and eyes down, quiet
"i am not a threat"
it might show interest
in contact of my kind
before recalling other hands
which smelled of harm
and deception, meaning
to take it down,
hold it down,
take the life from it.
i know those hands.
so i tiptoe around it
leave it in peace
and, respectfully,
offer nothing.

822pm

guarded.
a vast abysmal moat
surrounds this dark monolith.
one set of footsteps
echo.
others tiptoe on eggshells
while i leave prints,
scuffs, and residual
hauntings
in and around myself
where i build.
dare you to come closer
like those who fall
into the void and never
find me.

- É1240pm

all alone.
you hold me --
holding a maelstrom
within
whipping
through silent embraces
me
hiding in my storm cellar
dark,
down
inside twister
touching
down
annihilates the house
i hide my spirit in
all alone.
you hold me --
apocalypse
under my skin, are you
untouched?
wrapped around
desperate fury
while
i'm swept in
and
under
the ruins of me
again.

-2003

i don't have any money
and i'm ugly
and really unlucky
so why can't
i just get gravy
on my chicken
i paid ten bucks
i don't have
for this entrée, and
it's never right
you always
fuck me out of
my one good
meal a year
damn you

the too-clean tablecloth
s t r e t c h e s
between me and
the sea of people
who have come to eat
their chewing
like Liliputian marching in
my dieting ears
i long for persimmons and a
pair of jeans for
cold knees
this dress doesn't sit well alone.

- 2004

no friends and
good-weather acquaintances
and i trust in me
to just be here to
emanate and dissipate
as the sun allows.

do you know
i can
write a song
without
sleep
and i can
dance enough
to keep up
i can
make a mean
chili and
a lot of other things
like little boxes
for friends
i stow magics in
i know
some kenpo
and spanish
i can sing ave maria
in latin
and i'm not
even catholic
i can drink
my coffee black
or honeyed
or with sugar and
cream
i don't care
if the
bean is sweet
and i smell
it brewing
ten houses
away
somedays
i can
hardly stand to sit
i have fits of
busyness and
sometimes i
fight like a man
silent and
patient and
cruel
i've been told
by some folks
i can
swim upstream
make it look easy
and then
take ten
roll my own
smoke
and look
different every
time you
look my way
i can
show you a spot
in my scheme
and if you
follow
i'll lead or
i can watch
your back if you
can't do that
i can
be anything
which is required
of me
but no one cares
unless
i do all these things
naked.

- 1:40am

you make me
smile
and warmth
creeps up
my system
goes into shock
this long freeze
has made me
weak
though i seem
unbreakable
watch out
for the sound
of thawing.
- È1:30am


you gotta stop
stop touching me
in little quiet ways in
all the neglected places
i'll scare you with my hunger
and ruin you with my thirst
for such connection
- È11:25pm