Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Let my brothers look through my books first. Even the ones I've borrowed and never returned. This is important.
I want you to touch my dead face. Just so you can take it with you that it's all real. Yes, her cheek is cold. Yes.
Someone tell the story of the first day I saw a loon dive.
If you have my secrets, please keep them. And one day when you're old, you can reminisce about this one time there was this one girl who died. How sad, you might think. And if you remember then, at that moment, tell the world. Until, put my words in a quiet box.
Put them in that quiet box with me.
"Jukebox plays on drink by drink."
My grocery list should be longer than it is; it reads: Peroxide, Cereal. I should add "booze", but we don't have money for that.
Before the morning is over, I'll make the bed. I'll put away the dishes and polish off this pot of coffee. I'm going to waste a few more hours daydreaming of running away. I might research New Mexico towns, look for jobs in Labelle, Florida, and apartment search in Sulphur Springs, Texas.
"I like my women wild."
I'm trying to make good decisions. That's why I'm listening to country music.
Friday, November 8, 2013
I know you.
My first morning I knew you - I've always known. Somehow.
Monday, November 4, 2013
One year ago, my Nena went blind. One year ago.
I counted out her pills once a week. I became familiar with over-reactions, under-reactions and depression from the only strength I've ever known. I learned words that no one should ever know. I laughed at inappropriate times and also cried. I fought with medical professionals. (Fought). Took pills that weren't prescribed to me. Stayed up late to do dishes and laundry that wasn't mine and prepared the Mr Coffee.
One year ago, I was one year younger.
Less wrinkles around these eyes. More elasticity. Less poems written, less life lived, less heartache, more rabies. Since then, I've nearly died 4x. Once for real, the other three times, just emotionally. I've been accepted into a MFA poetry program. I've had more wine than I can really understand, I've gained and lost 5 lbs pretty consistently and I've been through approximately 12 menstrual cycles.
What can ya' say, though, you know? Shit keeps on moving. Blind or not, sad or not, old or not.
Friday, November 1, 2013
That's how my book would start.