volcanic dirt: 7/26/04

you take the tingle in my bottom lip and make it spawn
a certain slime and wittyword

you are the headspace and story I have always wanted
to hear and recite

to a crowd

oh, and I hate crowds

you are the most and nothing in my stomach and groin
this is what I get for saying I'm
unhappy.

(for my husband)

Comments

mayhem

the link between sanity and insanity is but a snap: almost like a twig beneath your shoe in november and what happens when you can't leave your home because your anger and fear keep you prisoner, and all you want to do is be loved and be good at loving and quit hating everything including the cheap folgers coffee when you really wanted the good stuff from central market or why you can't reach your mother anymore because her pain is rearing it's ugly head over the phone and your siblings don't have much to do with you anymore, why? who really knows, maybe it's because you are becoming the one thing they hate the most but you don't know what that is and in two months you'll be 36 and you still do not have children and you are in financial ruin and you don't have the one thing you really want which is that front porch swing, but first you have to have the front porch. anyway. right?

anyway

now I'm scared that if I actually leave, I'll never come home again, I'm going to make a list of what I need to do today and tomorrow just to function, first by getting off this fucking computer, out of control again, heads up

black and white

I decided to watch a black and white movie alone. I love doing that because I love b/w movies, and it makes me feel like my mother is watching with me. Sometimes I'll even ask her questions. And I wonder if my husband will hear me speaking to myself and wonder why. "mom, who's that actor?" sometimes I look around to see if maybe she decides to answer me. from up there. tell me things about this movie no one else would know. because they aren't movie people like us. a few nights ago I fell asleep. and then the darkness came with the fear that likes to rent space inside my heart, the scared piece of it. the smell of fear in my nose and on my tongue. I woke to the acrid air, my lips mumbling. I know it's that damn couch that likes to give me nightmares. falsely lulling me. black and white movie music. until I feel shaky and sick. but I can't tell won't ever tell what happened in that bad bad dream. those are words I don't dare ...

dirt verse

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