Ridiculous

 I haven't been able to write any poetry 

because everyone dies 

but not like this! not like this!

and am hemmed in by the thought lives

of lovers who're blithely conversing

in whispered opinions that thud tremendously 

past my brain to my heart, my heart!

My bleeding heart, since when were bleeding hearts disdainful?

out my mouth words of protest at indignities

out his mouth accusing me of parroting

Cracker!? Polly?! Pretti!? So what if I am parrotting

could it be that I am not a beaked thing 

but a mirror held up and saying 

look at this fearful disregard for each other 

breeding in the dark wet stalls of our mutual mind

Self Portrait

hungry face

snaggle-tooth

slouching in a 

vinyl booth

droopy face

fixed my teeth

head in hands 

money screen

is my hair still red

or wire?

do I still evoke desire?

jeans, converse, Peter Pan

I should get those dishes done

future me is Cubist 

Eating fish with triscuits

the truth is age is like a comeback

childhood stays affixed and the rest slides around

would you believe me if I said I've never minded any of it?

just been playing along because I liked the sound

At McDonald's

 On Powell and 60th I told the girls

I saw a monster in the creek when I was six

He was grey, I said, and screaming at the fish

he tried to catch from his rock island, with sticks

Why the other children didn't see him (all 3 leaning in now)

was because he was too shy, but I (oh their freckles!)

was just quiet enough to sneak behind a tree (Sal's dimple! She knows it's fantasy)

as he uncurled his little grey body and opened his mouth full of teeth

We were waiting a long time for our cheeseburgers and fries

New Year's Day, this story my own run from ennui

teenagers in the booth beside us with eyeliner and muddy pants

(or maybe young men in their twenties?) laughing at the girl bringing their trays

A man across from me without a nose

ate his McChicken slowly, covering his face with his hands

between bites. A grief that I pulled away from

but felt, heavy as the backpack beside him, blue FILA, clean

Oh new year, oh muddy world. Splatter me with evidence

that I am here. Don't let me forget how Victoria looks, laughing, missing both front teeth