jaded pinkett-smith

in highschool I had an acquaintance named Tjaden
  the T was silent
she was a teen raversomething
she wore big nylon ufo pants
& glowbras
& she'd get on all that ecstasy and twirl glowsticks
her boyfriend's name was Angus, he thought she was the hottest thing in the world.
he told Kari once that it's slutty to wear both eyemakeup and lipstick at the same time
Tjaden taught him this.
I never knew that makeup had anything to do with promiscuity
but I did notice that Tjaden (we'd always pronounce the T when discussing her) would usually be wearing both
so
was she slut-shaming herself?
what a shame
I think I might be
shaming, sometimes
but I never call anyone a slut, in seriousness
it's not a real word, it's an imaginary thing
I've told this to Kari on numerous occasions
bc sometime she shames herself in this way,
  though she'd never do this to anyone else
I think I am used to it
getting used to the what-does-it-matter
who-cares vibe
of those around me
I'm learning to be expectationless
maybe
maybe this is something I learned from you?
maybe I have something from you
  to be regretless about
or am I just
so terribly used to everything
that whatever life sparkle is dulled
and stimulation
falters, falls short of me
& I'm afloat in the who-cares
& the idgafs
until I punch my body back
to the no-it-matters-terribly
oh when will I see YOU again

chamberpot

sitting in the dark of the culdesac,
it's funny bc it's halfair of night summer birds and
desert flowers & perfect roses
but half also the foul sewage some nearby place, human waste afloat
we're human wastes wafting, too
long arm me
say, I'm sad that you're leaving
so I can say, No you aren't
how could you be?
how could you know I'll never like you enough
how could I teach you what dtf means
how could you insist again, thrust the acronym on me
tell me I'm a really cool girl, okay
let's go with that, it gets me places
impress people with my lightness? a quickness
I don't even notice it
it's 3:33 am, repeating
& if you hadn't danced like that,
I wouldn't have attempted such an acronym myself
I'm trying to acroname me, here
but the odors of the earlymorning on the foothills' roots
of the way things have always smelled there
and new miasmic winds from this recent development, the upturned earth, the toilets & bowls for our newrich filth,
are reminding me too much
of all of the world's beauties & disappointments
I've got an appointment with alone,
with the softbodied dog
with the blank page
& by the time I'm in bed, staring at it
I've forgotten the inside letter I've composed to you
bc of course I still unreadily compose them
(you know).
I am not sad I'm leaving,
your long limbs longer
just longing at my acronyms
I'm just sad to still
be here, in the fresh in the gross
composing at an invisible dead eye, ear, heart
& to hear you say that we were once in love
is like the crush of night
and the wash of earlymorning birds thrusting their calls at me
and I want to tendril down the drainage, too
for you
and very, very away from you
at a ravaging pace

16: pacific duck, ruddy loon

Oh at the grass I am, and there the ducks, ruddy & floating without legs without feet or arms, on water consistent like yogurt. The marsh lined with mallow curtaining the down afloat. The water, the element of, heavier than air. My fingers creeping lichens over your face, over your face, presenting you a spring shell-flower; within it hidden ring-lichens, concentric fleshy loops for your pretty hand. The celtic cross shaded over us before the sun, its snakeweed shadow-maker blowing. It is a breeze. It is a breeze which makes a howl throat out from the dog-lichens, their membranous moans keeping the screech-owl up too late. I want to know, at night, the loon and its stories of sweeping the Pacific. Make me sleep for the better.