Transfusion
Gray
is the color of my heart
until you bleed life blood back into it
red
like the flush of my lips
like the paint on my nails
seeking
the warmth of your skin
the taste of the martini left in your mouth
Fat Bottom Girl Said What
When my ass talks, people listen.
Archive for the category “Poetry”
Abandoned Lips
The heat lightning flashed
and the thunder rumbled
and the warm breeze
blew the curtains inward like ghosts in a strange dance
and we laid tangled
in the damp sheets
your hand on my hip
your sigh on the back of my neck
and it had all started with a kiss
one kiss
which fell on lips long since abandoned
by others
Footwork
Courage abandoned me
as fear carved out my insides
it took the road less traveled
veins and arteries
devoid of blood
for my heart had long ago ceased to beat
the only rhythms of life
trapped in my head
recalling a time
when my feet knew the songs and the steps
and weren’t too afraid to dance
Flim-Flam Man
You’re a charlatan
a sham fraud fake imposter
a flim-flam man in a Ford
a peddler in false hope
your lies suspended in snake oil
to make them slide down easier
“Come one! Come all!
I’ve got just what you need”
you shout
hawking your elixir to unsuspecting women
promising results
but never delivering
Take your spiel
and your wares elsewhere
as I have no patience for a shyster
whose life is already promised to another
parading panaceas
Misery Is Terrible Company
When the pain becomes too great
and all of the old vices fail to satisfy
and you’re silently screaming for help
but it falls on deaf ears
and all the fat people are now
thinner than you
and you’re an obese cow
who no one ever wanted to buy
because you always gave the milk for free
and what that means is you’re a slut
and you’ve been used and discarded
and you’ve forgotten how to put
one foot in front of the other
so you try to talk the talk
until you can walk the walk
but you fail miserably and trip
and fall on your face
but who cares
because your front teeth had a big gap between them anyway
and you have no outer beauty left
but it was only a disguise for your inner beauty
which has now also abandoned you
and misery is your only companion
and loneliness dances in the shadows
to a tune of your own composing
Avocado Rotary Wall Phone
All my feelings have taken on a hazy effect, like my heart has forgotten how to feel strongly, and my memory can’t even recall
So I put on my galoshes and try to figure out how to wade through this game called Life, when it’s more like Monopoly and I’m always trying to rob Peter to pay Paul and Mary because the tax man cometh and he always wants more than his fair share
And all those people who promised they’d never leave me are all gone, and my avocado rotary wall phone never rings, and the pencil waits at the ready to dial a number but I’ve forgotten how to use the phone book or call information, and I didn’t really want to talk to anyone anyway
So I fill the tub with hot water and Mr. Bubble and climb in with a glass of Cold Duck and take a handful pills which are really just Smarties left over from the last Halloween, and I push the radio off the side of the tub with my toe into the water but the music just goes dead because it’s a transistor that I used to carrying around in my bike basket with the plastic flowers
And I think how the 70’s and 80’s ruined me for the 2000’s and this place sucks because our president now reminds me of numerous ex-boyfriends with tiny penises who loved to gaslight everyone and lie to themselves about being good people, when in fact they were narcissistic assholes who cared nothing for no one, and they’re raising armies of people exactly like them, influenced by social media and their need to be the center of everything
So I don’t fucking care anymore and wish the world would fuck off
Blight
I am a spoiled peach
with a pit as my vascular organ
As my body has become softened with time
my heart has become hardened
Bruises and tearing of the skin
a tome of inner vulnerability and weakness
When did the rot set in
so much putrid pulp traveling my veins and arteries
If only they’d used kid gloves
when handling me
Now leave me beneath the tree to decompose in peace
lest I contaminate the ripening fruit
Collection Agencies
My coffers are empty
because no one can count on the kindness of strangers
when it comes to paying emotional debts
morally bankrupt
the only direct deposit I can make
is the alcohol
straight into my gob hole
meant to fill my trust account
but it too
leaves me sinking
The usury of life
is too high
it’s extortion
and I’m no good at forgery and fraud
and hush money has no value
when you’re a truth teller
Roadside Memorial
Your life has been reduced
to a roadside memorial
of fake flowers bought at Dollar General
which have faded with time
Appropriate
considering the way you lived
bloated by too much cheap liquor
surrounded by empty Amazon boxes
and old National Geographic magazines
and weighted down by your past
For years
you tried to make it better
turn things around
but nothing ever stuck
and eventually everything spiraled
right back down the drain that was your existence
Where were those mourners when you were still alive
Tale of a Bradford
like a spring snowfall
the white flower petals of the pear trees
lie scattered in the gutter
cast off
because beauty never stays
a lion’s rage
the bough breaks
and comes crashing down
because resilience can only weather so many storms
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 