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I'd like to fast-forward, please.
Fast-forward through
stepping back on
public transportation
sitting & yawning
in an art lecture
walking home
uphill
and back here again
to put some songs on the radio
that no one wants to hear
while my friends are at a concert
listening to songs
and cheering.
My diet can't consist of kisses, corn chips, and false hope
alone.
Suddenly, I'm my cat, mewing half-desperately behind her food dish,
I'M STARVING
(for attention)
the minute you leave the room,
the second my bowl is empty.
Someone, push the button.

Again - 2 more new poems

Describe
-a writing exercise-

My favorite sweater is thick, black, and woolly; always warm
Angus Young is on stage in a t-shirt and jeans
leaving the country for two years with a complete stranger
Rudy's tail was like a worm, his ears constantly twitching
A rat dons a school-boy uniform
I'm the orange peel on the cafeteria floor,
or the sawdust sprinkled on fresh vomit.
My street began quiet, but houses and children grew up around us
The beloved ice cream truck grew wings,
started pedaling steaks instead of confections, while
Foghorn Leghorn punched Teddy Roosevelt in the neck
and my big brother kept stomping on towering anthills


Afternoon Reverie

The softly-prickling, shady-cool
slope of the lawn
fits like a puzzle piece
into the small of your back.
I close my eyes
as the sunlight,
pouring like slow, warm butter,
shifts over our skin.
This is the part where
you roll over and kiss me, all fireworks & desire,
with my eyelids still drawn -
and my fingers find
handfuls of auburn hair
and make a nest there,
like a pale, cooing bird.

2 New Poems

Another Day Has Come To An End
September 24th, 2007

I’ve become
a dull brown-haired girl
staring at
two unread books
and six over-played records,
spinning slowly through the evening.
Four candles,
flickering from fan blades,
burn in my living room,
and three white ceramic mugs
of wine later,
part of me hopes
that something will
catch fire
when I’m not looking.


Muffin
September 11th, 2007

Eating an (awful) blueberry muffin
alone,
at five-seventeen in the evening
almost places me
(with the softest, gentlest of hands)
into a state
of nervous breakdown.
No part of this library
belongs to me, and
I’m on the edge,
of everything,
all the time.
I push my fingertip into moist crumbs -
I paid good money for this
desperate attempt
to recreate happiness.

Offend In Every Way

A conundrum:

Consider yourself shy, and others will probably judge you as being snobby, an asshole, or ignorant, all because you don't always say what you're thinking.

Become confident and you'll still get called an asshole, because you're assertive.

I'm not sure what's worse - to be quiet and to be quietly judged,
or to be open & honest, even if you make some enemies while doing so.


Unrelated note:
I don't care if it's lame - "Tiny Vessels" and "Someday You Will Be Loved" by Death Cab make me choke up. Almost every time.