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Open one eye-sun today- turn over pillow to the cold side.Nine more minutes of bliss then goddamn it I am one step closer to work. Empty desk beside me where my beautiful Korean friend once sat with the most bewitching deep brown eyes like the sky. One life begins and my life begins again. Lunch in the sun with a chatty redhead who snuggles up close and peers at me under soft eyelashes. Dinner date with my new friend with whom I will have a platonic relationship yet still tries to hold my hand on the way to the car.
Waiting for doc and I hear the construction worker in the next room- says he has severe allergies and a runny nose. Ugh, I thought the dirty t-shirt wrapped around his hand concealed a bloody stump. "I can't hardly breathe and by the way my knee has been acting up and they used to give me percoset or vicodin and then lortabs quit working. It just swells up sometimes can you give me a muscle relaxer or something with codeine in it?" He means "please make me numb, please save me from myself" and I think, coward- buy a gun.
why and I cry you sigh and deny want you to die I'll kneel and serve you just to unnerve you but in secret I laugh you only gave half hurts where you've been I can't feel again your hands on my skin yet still want you in can you touch and how much and don't speak floor creaks you in my room and we resume kiss and a sigh you under me lie part of me dies this sin is within so it begins this tug of war I am your whore there is the door don't want anymore
I have an agreement with bees and spiders. I don't squeal when I see them, or run from them, or swat at them. I don't wish them dead- on the contrary; if they weren't free I would hire them. So I step around them- or warn them I am coming, and they get out of my way. We have a barter system- I love fruit and I would feel kind of dirty if I had to pollinate all of it myself. And I certainly don't eat flies. So I plant flowers and fruit trees, and I am a lousy housekeeper.
Too easy. Make eye contact, look down with a shy smile. Next 2 passes, look the other way- toss head, laugh too loud at the unfunny statement my neighbor just made, and fetchingly tuck one curl behind my ear. Stand up right on top of him, nearly knocking us both down. Thank you peripheral vision. He thinks it fate that our first words began with me grabbing his forearms to steady myself. "look" I say "we are twins"! Both in our yellow shirts. He always wears that stupid shirt on casual Fridays. What a fucking co-inky-dink. He is mine, now.
Seven pairs of red panties, little blue boxes, and two aspirin: in my purse a first aid kit for the weary soldier. I am all woman this week. Another egg safely across the border even though red rover red rover came all over. I have foiled yet another legion of hostile sperm. From the next stall I hear the familiar rustle of paper; another comrade in the trenches with me. We stand in front of the mirror, adjust our skirts, and smile knowingly at each other. Each of us fought millions last month. We emerge from the ladies room victorious.
Women hate me men fear me I eat anything and everything I want banana splits, peanut butter, cheesecake and greasy pizza. Cheese and pasta and ice cream and some of what is on your plate, too please- and more and more and where is the next meal coming from and I want fries with that and in my hand a half eaten bag of potato chips. I want the buffet and sour cream and butter and lettuce is a mere vehicle for my salad dressing. I alone have the secret to metabolism calories can't stick to my Teflon hips. Tapeworm.
Suddenly he kisses me. Kind of hard at first, then softer as he curls long fingers around my neck. The other hand presses my lower back, pulling me close. Blue jean hips press against mine, and he says "hmmmm" low in the back of his throat as he slides his tongue across my lips. I have been waiting for this all night. Rough hands on my cheek- gives a deep and soulful look. I resist a bit and lower lip swells; a pout. I feel soft breasts press against mine. Man, those dykes can confuse you when you are drunk.
I am solar. Limbs outstretched to capture sun- I creep into the beam on the floor and feel rays lick my skin. Warmth curls into my toes, snuggles in the curves of my feet. Across my calves and thighs like a silken blanket- weightless warmth caresses my back. Steals darkness between my legs, liquid heat here; I have no secrets from the sun. I turn to present my breasts, leaves sprout from my fingertips; cup my hands over my face- if I open them, inside will be a perfect shell pink bloom. I am golden, and I await the bees.
Locked my keys in my parrot. Could somebody get me a surfboard? Wanted to go to the moon and now I have no transportation. Wonder if monkeys will want all these paper airplanes I made during lunch. I'm too hungry to fish for butterflies. What is that smell that looks like confetti? Who pasted all those leaves on my arm? I can't remember if I was supposed to stir up the lemons or let the birds play checkers. Wait, it is all coming back to me now- today I need to swim over the grass and gather cobwebs. Good brownies.
He is sky, the wind, and the rain before it falls. That charged static excitement just before lightning strikes- I see him and I feel the clouds rolling in. My traveling storm coming to thrill me, to cleanse me, to frighten me a little. Hot breeze on my throat, wet trails between my breasts. A spinning twisting churning where will he strike next and I am lifted into the eye of the storm- and I am soaked. Flashes of light behind my eyelids and inside me a raging, thundering current and for a moment I, too am electric. My tempest.
I am feeling kind of empty tonight; I'm missing something. A little hollow, a little unfulfilled. I just don't feel that I am whole, like someone pulled the plug. It's puzzling, and I need the key. I am like an echo in a dark cave. I am just kind of detached- I guess you could say vacant. I am unoccupied at the moment. If I knew how to fill this hole inside I could get out of this rut. I need to do some exploring; shed some light in this tunnel. Writer's cock. Block. Oops, Freudian slit. I mean slip.
Today I did not make a good impression on the boss. Asked what I could bring to the new position and I choked. Know what to say- how to say it-rhetoric and protocol. But I don't want that job, don't want that particular set of tasks. Don't want to work with those boring losers in accounting. At what age do you decide to pass up a promotion for peace of mind? Is it ever acceptable to blow an interview and a raise just because you don't wanna? Okay, so I'm a slacker. Never could run in on double dutch either.
Brent and Mike were 13 years old. Had a pellet gun down on the farm. Killed a couple of birds, shot some cans. Mike bet Brent that he couldn't shoot that bull in the balls. Brent pumps the gun 7 times, draws a bead and steadies his arm on the fence. Ping! And the bull charges through the fence, chickens scatter- he turns and charges right at the barn. Makes a new door. Out the other side, through another fence and across the road. But, Brent, why did you shoot that bull in the calls? "because they were hanging down"
Thanksgiving dinner at my high school boyfriends. Trapped between overbearing Mom and pushy sister. Brother-in-law and niece to my right. Across from me Dad is sweet though, partially deaf and laid back. Dad and I are talking about fishing- little Casey chimes in brightly "Pawpaw says I have a pretty little pussy" Silence. Forks drop to plates. Dad chuckles: Casey said something cute again. Every horrified face is on his "what'd she say?" He leans in close to Casey and she repeats proudly. I look forward to my future with great relief: I will never fuck up anything that bad.
Like saltwater sand. Bark peeled from a tree. A sun-warmed rock. Rain before it falls.. On my fingers, on my skin where you touched. I walked you to the door and rushed back up the stairs, hoping your smell was still on my pillow. And 2 hours later I still feel the pressure of your palms on my hips. I would call you and beg you to return to me, but I can't imagine watching you leave me a second time. If you revisit me in my dreams, I will tell you I love you instead of biting my lip.
He left me today. Said it would be best for everyone. He has 2 kids, a young and confused wife. How selfish of us to disturb the gray monotony for some slim chance at happiness. I believed that we did have some type of permanent bond that would weather us through the destruction of tearing 2 houses apart- someway of calming each other while we destroyed our respective family’s lives. If only she and he would collide in a fiery crash on the interstate and leave 2 gaping holes in our lives that we would gladly fill with each other.
Why I'm a poor partner: I flat leave a room when I want to be alone without hint or warning of departure. Pity the man who follows me. But if I'm in the room with him- I have to share his space- a foot in the lap, hand in his hair; completely draped around him with my face in his neck. Clingy, suffocating, annoying. I have a smart mouth. I turn into a cursing bawdy sailor when I drink. Next day get totally mortified at the hint of sexual innuendo in front of his friends. I am a lady goddammit.
She was strutting around showing off that the baby's mother would allow this privileged unrelated very important person carry around her three week old wrinkly red helpless infant. What a trustworthy person she must be. She walked in front of my cubicle cooing and cuddling then she tripped and dropped like an unbalanced Christmas tree. I heard a sound like a wet towel dropped to the concrete. I was rooted, horrified. Thought I was going to see brains. I stood, shaking, and peered down at the crash. The baby was cradled in stiffened arms- unhurt. Instinct. Reflexes. Adrenaline. Or God.
As a child he dressed in red pajamas. He would scramble around the room wishing his hands had barbs and making horizontal surfaces vertical. The bed a roof and the floor the empire state building. His fingers outstretched an imaginary lasso brings his pillow to the concrete with no mercy. The nighttime savior of Gotham- he alone could stop the destruction of the evil force who would separate him from his beloved mary jane. I had the privilege of sitting with him through the movie- his left hand flexing and contracting- still shooting imaginary webs. And I felt very safe.
Took the group home van filled with 16 rowdy delinquent teachers to the Taco Bell drivethrough.. They behave for a startling 74 seconds while I order. 32 hard tacos, 16 soft tacos, and 16 orders of nachos. Charlie with Tourette's leans over me suddenly and shouts "I WANT CROTCH CHEESE ON MY TACO" 16 kids ate 12 pounds of refried beans and went to bed. All night long I saw blue flashes coming from the boys rooms followed by fits of uncontrollable laughter. I thought about how quiet and ladylike the girls were. So I gave them a lighter, too.
She is 5 feet tall. Tiny hands and tinier feet. Maybe 105 pounds. All winter long she wore a heavy black leather jacket. Hunched forward at her desk- always cold, always seemed young in the oversized jacket. I thought it belonged to a boyfriend- she seemed to feel safe in that heavy protective cover. She came back from lunch yesterday- shucked the jacket and walked in with only a t-shirt. Her breasts must be 44dd at least. This brainy, funny girl who seemed so vulnerable to the cold- now more powerful than me with those incredible tits. I am inferior.
Today my ducks woke me at dawn. Quacking at every window, tearing around the yard in utter alarm, talking about coyotes and bobcats and stray dogs. I didn't believe a word they said- thought all they needed was a big strong Canadian goose to tell them who the boss was. Opened the window, yelled at them and slept for 20 more minutes. The alarm woke me and I yelled at it, too, but believed it's sincerity and got dressed for work. There were white feathers all over the driveway. How could I believe plastic and wires over flesh and blood?
47 churches. White lines, music written for me. Hours of curvy mountain roads. We followed the water- first creek, then river, and he turned suddenly down a short gravel road that ended beside the lake. He showed me a camper in the moonlight- told me it was his. I was at the stove in a short summer dress making pancakes while he lay stretched out on the deck with Sunday's paper. I called him baby and we were going fishing later- and maybe a nap. He backed out of the driveway, took my hand in his and another song began.
Power steering fluid. Dog food. Needlenose pliers. Hell-Mart. Act of God to get me in the place. Can I help you find something? No thanks. Wow, you must have a big dog. Need some help? Ummm, do you work here? No I just like helping pretty ladies. I can handle it, thanks. Pliers, pliers- he is following me everywhere. I throw 40 pounds of dog food over one shoulder, pliers as a weapon- still following me. I walk to the center of intimates- surrounded by giant panties and parachute bras- turn and stare defiantly. He balks. Safety in women's things.
Resolve. I have none. Big gaping hole where integrity should be. I wake each day to birds singing and I think today I'll be on time and I'll eat healthy and I'll be nice to my friends and smile at strangers. I iron my suit and make my hair neat- give the cat fresh water and drink a glass of juice. Take Drowning Pool out, defeat subs and replace it with Dave Matthews- quiet, safe music to tailor my mood. Then some monkeyfucker in a green jeep drives 55 in the passing lane and I am a woman possessed again.
She had Alzheimer's. Became hateful, then abusive, then violent. We were on the deck one morning reading the paper when she came out of her house with her long blue bathrobe flapping. We watched her pick her way through the flowerbed and the tall wet grass- a car drove by honking. She waved. Another car, honking. She retrieved her mail and turned back up the hill towards us, kind of squinting and smiling. A good day we both thought, at least she is smiling. Then a gust of wind blows open her robe and we saw that she was naked.
They took him out to get him laid for his 16th birthday in December 1959. There were 4 boys and 3 pints of moonshine. Couldn't find a willing girl so they decided that he should fuck a cow. The boys found one asleep in a frozen field and helped their friend get in close. He dropped his pants around his ankles and 2 of them held him steady- reluctantly he placed his hands on either side of the cow and the fourth boy held the cow's tail. He held his breath, leaned forward, and the cow shit in his pants.
Rained tears today. Felt them on my tongue and on my skin- salty tears that I didn't cry when she died, that I didn't cry when he left me. Tears I didn't cry when I had to put her to sleep. Tears I didn't cry when he called me those names and made me beg for attention. Tears I didn't cry when I was laid off and had to relocate, again. Tears I didn't cry when he told me he was married. Puddles on the ground saved me from swollen eyes and heartache. The clouds are sad for me today.
Wanted a project so I took you down. Showed you transgression , spun you around. Temptation was easy, I was a whore- glutton for punishment and you begged for more. Took you to church, gave you a cross- wear around your neck rosary or albatross You wanted my love I gave you god's plan- He runs your life, mere mortal man. When heaven you find and left sin behind, remember my face, press rewind. Now you are free from all girls' affection-wear a white collar, practice genuflection. Remember wisely all of my ploys: now in frustration you can diddle boys!
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