garbagepail

so many Gs in the bank
I'm listening to the neighbors party
someone just walked out of the house saying,
Party tiiime, gurl
and I'm like, Hella! I'm alone in pretend house, the dog isn't barking
another guy just called out, Text me in 2 hours to find out what I want from Jimmy John's
and I'm all, Helllllla!
one of the neighbors is a super-puker
he superpukes really loudly in the mornings
right outside the window where I'm waking up, and
rubbing my eyes, going, Hella
Hella puke it OUT, bro
get it
another guy who lives in that house is the breast marauder
the tiny razor pube man
it's a gross story
but he doesn't remember me, so
I'll underbang glance grimmace at him, like, ohh Hella
I never have to remind him
that that's not the romantic way to fingerblast a babe
that he has a million too many identical sweaters
that ripping off a hot babe's nipples isn't the way to get
your sharp little penis inside of it

sorry, this was a bad one
but I'm alone, and feeling proud
of life, of brain, of heart & future
  for at least the next twenty minutes, or so

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

hysteriaparty

haha

I am laughing, it rarely sounds like that, but I am full of it

 my dad used to say I was full of it a lot

 it took me awhile to realize being full of it is being full of shit

I was young, shit as shit didn't cross my mind

I left work yesterday and took nathan with me, and he met her

and she had that shellshocked look, like who's this man in my house!

and I don't care... but I should

  I should care, really I should

I locked us out of the house, I had to call Nickey to ask her to rescue us

we sat in the car

  Nathan drank the end of a bottle of flat rosé

  and I drank an apricot cider from a jar

and we smoked, and we listened to the lana del rey pandora station

  and I read him a bad poem, but I didn't write it

  we laughed

  he buttoned up his pale blue collared shirt to the top 

and he put on one of the bolo ties that hangs from my rearview mirror, 

  the one someone in my family got as an easter present in the '60s

  with the aqua leather and the silver horse running.

she rescued us

  we bought more beer

  we took our beachchairs

and I got into the river.

the others came & I had the other others on my mind

  and I was tired of looking at everything

  like my hair, my body

Nathan said If it's inside me, if it's invisible, it doesn't exist

and I said, What lungs? and the crowd echoed, laughing  

                 Liver, who?

I was tired of looking around until the wind picked up

  a fuzz layer took our sun away

   Where's my son?

then the cotton was floating around from the branches,

  it looked like snow

I looked downriver, the wind blowing all the trees, the white fluffs

and I thought this looks like the strangest storm

  here, with my damp swimmingdress on

  and the warm

  and the vague light of the sun,

but this could be a winter's storm

and this could be snow.

what if it was snowing right now?

the wind picked up around us, blowing us over

I went to the car to get sweaters

I got naked in the car for a minute

I walked on the sharp rocks

I told myself to stop looking for it

to stop searching it out

to do what it takes to unlatch

  and when I'm drunk, it's so easy to clear everything but these sorts of words

   with an understanding chuckle, here & there

but I woke up sober, so here I am again

teeth in, ready to anxiety-attack myself

  but what doesn't go away

  is the knowledge that you don't inspire me, you any

                                     & I don't admire anything about you, at all

  and of course, this makes me feel more the fool

as I continue

something so gross,

  so uninspe-rable

  so unadmire-able

but I'm going to go cut my hair now,

  the ugly ombre that everyone brings up

   because I've got to save that money

   because we've something like 44 days

until I break

   physically

from my gooey cords 

  giving me sicklife

  from your gross shells. I wish this was only but finally about one person

a one You

  so I could have an explosion party, so I could blow you up

but You are Many too Many and my brain splashes

 in an overdone explosion party

   where I'm the only once celebrated, and I'm the only one lauded 

and I didn't even get invited because I 

just

live there

I'm going to call this paragraph, "this is why I hate you" by molly merrill stoddard

hate me because I'm fat, then
hate me because I'm a coward
hate me because I make bodypromises
hate me because I'm ugly
take a chance on me, and I'll on you, too
go ahead & hate me for that.
hate me for being far away from you
  for falling in love
    with any attention-giver I can find
hate me for being an awful writer
hate me for writing all the time
hate me for taking breaths in between
hate me for disappearing
  for ignoring you
hate me for telling you everything
hate me for my honesty
hate me for my certainty
  and for sucking it all away from you
hate me for promises
hate me for my uncertain future
hate me for my sad
hate me for my being a sedentary mass
hate me for kissing you
hate me for my awkward fuck
hate me for my money
hate me for my snacks
hate pictures of me, for images of my subtle movements
hate me for my flatness
hate me for existing, invisible
hate me for my reason
  for my neglect
hate me for changing my mind
hate me for my sorries
hate me for my selfish
hate me for my gross corpse
  that you hang from, yourself a gross corpse

"and a liar... and pathetic..." (6/12/13)

I found you. I will find out everything about you, too. You won't know, because I am an invisible thing

I am a thing you know about

but really you don't

because you've never met me, never will remember me

Isn't it fun? I would ask you

To be an unreturnable?

to think you haven't a thought about it. I am a wish spyer

I will pay extra close

any amount of $$, silently

like I'm a wall

but I haven't any walls like you.

I guess this is where you live, then. So this is your place? god what a scum place you've made into

What are your walls made of? Where are your softspots.

How do you even say my name like that, when have you ever said my name

I've heard you say it aloud, in some past

we were living in a present then

I gave all the presents I could think of, still do

I have already taken myself back

I have been taken aback.

but I'm hanging on the walls

a crack

in your softwood, grosswood, moldwood

you are a fat disgusting wood, tall & forward & upright barely

I have to go to work

and pretend like I like to be there

everyone, no not everyone

most everyone has a problem like this, you know, with work

unless you like to do what you're being paid to do

but who does, who does figure this out?

I ate too much salad, which is funny

because salad is so little, so good-for-me

and I am pretty little, I am pretty bad-for-me, though

Was I worse for you? when I existed

Why am I the only one asking all of the questions, here?

Why am I the alone interviewer? How will I get my articles published? 

without the answers I'm needing

I don't know.

I don't like where you live,

 I don't like YOUR grub

it's a gross grub

and I don't blame them for not wanting you

I don't wonder why they won't

and that doesn't leave me with questions

so instead I will just sit here & interrogate

myself

the world

the seasons

the wind

I saw the moon again, it's back

and I can't wait to interrogate it tonight when I get off of work

I'm going downtown

to paste up a portrait of Carl Sandburg in some ugly boise alleyway

and a portrait of Mark Twain on some gross streetcorner

and a portrait of Walt Whitman on jamba juice or something, I D K

but first I have to find a paintbrush, and a roller, and I have to make some wheatpaste

and I have to care to

rather than to not care to

and during all of this I will be asking the questions, here

I will do all of the talking

at the moon, or whoever you are

and I won't be answered (maybe)

but the last time we spoke

you actually did answer me

you reminded me why I've never loved you, & why I don't love you now

because there are Actual people in the world

who are Actually there

Actually available

who Actually, Actually give a shit 

about something other

than some decrepit broke shell 

for inhabiting

that's big enough only 

for your brokenopen egg

because nothing else exists to you

save for alone

& sad

& miserable

& longing for longing for who isn't longing back at you,
backwards glance garbagehouse

6/12 3:16 pm

butterbody

I'm sitting in my opaljade colored subaru legacy outback
smoking a cigarette
it's pouring rain out
cheesecake on the countertop,
nobake
I'm a dying thirst
I drove to the gasstation & couldn't barely tell
the man abt the smokes I wanted
I sat in the car,
smoking
I read aloud
I did that thing where I tell myself not to move my lips when I read
I said this loudly
& I moved my lips so fully
I have such a humor
my dad took me out to this bougie restaurant
: An Italian Joint
  and I told them about my weekend
                            about what I'm sortof trying for
& the gross waitress hovered
taking away plates & utensils
in the corporate fashion
I reaaallly don't care about this place
but I ate  puffy smoked salmon stuffed
I mean, why lie? it was fucking delicious
but you won't be seeing me there again
   unless I'm dead
  like if someone really felt the urge to bother
with a corpse or a murder
for an overpriced fuck-me-I'm-pastad party
oooh happy birthday! the waitress fake-squealed
and she asked if I wanted some birthday girl dessert
  and come on, you think this fyne 33 yr old bod keeps its way through dessert? get real
I do thank you, & sincerely.
  they gave me a beautiful backpack
      so I'm trying not to be so awfully mean

airport

I'm sitting here in the cadillac
I've been ignoring the family
who keeps asking for it back
bc it's my whip, now
there's the trash, rodesoda cans
allofthe blankets off of allofthe cabin beds
a blue-painted sign written I think in my grandfather Bruce's hand that reads,
silk purse
and on its alternate side,
sow's ear
It's a special item
& also the carved wooden fist, I had to break it off the doorway
I'm glad I noticed it, else it would have been crunched
so
it's my whip, now
& I'm in jetstream aviation's parkinglot
picking up my passenger
and really, not sad at all to be at the airport picking up my passenger
I'm no sadball
I'm ballless
& ignore me, nothing abt me is an ugly one
or a gross thing
or a sucker
May be I am a full fantasizer
a picture-of-the-futurer
a let's try it
but you should check out my most excellent smile
it's the one thing I have for your face
give me sentiment, give me nostalgia
give me
a present a future
give me my good face back,
  an idgaf face
give me
bc I'm a neurosis queen taker
a narcissistic give me give me
   I glow
   I'm a glow machine
& no one blow me down now
fly here, flyaway
  whatever,
I'm taking the car
& I'm out of this twobit town

waterbed

I don't know whether I can do this, stay the rest of the night outside

but there's the cerulean edge light

over the silhouettehouses

and the earlymorning carsounds, bc it's worktime

I woke up to the sprinklers on me

soaking halfbed

thanks for helping me move furniture so late/early

but I'm determined to get beneath blankets I'm dreaming of these blankets, too

sticky feet

tuck me in, unfold around me

I'm dreaming of how badly the blankets smell

how gross they all are

and I'm wondering at a full sleep

and I'm wondering at going to the dr today

and I'm wondering at will you really hold my hand while I get this done?

and I'm wondering at will you promise to keep up how we talk to one another

  even with drs and nurses and strangers in the room?

GET IT

GET IT as you hold the mirror by my thigh

I have a million beans growing inside of me

it's the best

I am a gaseous system, I'm pretty out there

I can feel all the beans dance

have a funparty in my bod

I've always had a partybod to share with all of the worlds, you know

hey, do you know me? in a wet bed, with a dog, sleeping in silk in flannel, outside

  sometimes

sleeping is fun

 I miss it when I don't have it

  but I am no longer good 

   too good for sleep

    to party for sleep

     to wet for sleep

      too date for sleep

98∘

I came home from work and I looked at the backyard of gayulz club

and I was like

FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK this place

it's so dirty & gross here, god

and I looked at the bed I'd made & slept in, on the cement

and it is covered in little gnat corpses and little pollen flecks and sticky matter

and I was even more disgusted

but here I am, sitting

I cleaned up cigarette butts

beerbottles

beercans

a can of diet coke? whose

an empty pizza box

and I said, You know what, Molly?

and I said, WHAT, Molly??!

You deserve some WHISKEY, gurl

and I was all, YA I DO

so I got on my bike & rode my ass down to the liquor store. It's really hot out.

The temperature clock says almost 100

The internet says it's 92 degrees.

Remember that boy band

Nickey saw a pic of them these days

what, it's like 20 years later or something

and she said, Gross! they are so gross and OLD now

and I'm like Ya, why would they let a good thing die

which reminds me: remember when Jessica Simpson ballooned to like 150 lbs

and everyone freaked

bc it's Jessica FuckingSimpson

and she's hot, so how did she get so FAT

omg, did Nick Lachey leave her, you think

I don't even know

I need to look at more mag covers at the stores

I came home and I thought to make myself a cocktail

where's my cocktail?

I thought I really need a cold cocktail, I'll use the martini shaker

put in some ice, some ginger syrup, a little lemon juice, some sparkle water

and then I noticed it!

a single watermelon beer

and I was like

Why would I ever maudlin-exclaim that life sucks?! No way

it's even better than whiskey right now

in 98∘

Nick & Jessica, forever

fat or thin

gay or straight

geniuses,

I hope they made it
in all this heat

based on the hit song AMAZING GRACE

kids keep naming their kids Gracie, or Gracey, or Gracee, and I wonder, so are these kids naming their kids Grace & making it easier on them 

to deal with such a supreme sort of name

by childishing it & making it easier on the come-out?

Because the ee-affixes 

are sweeter sounding on the tongue.

Because I'm thinking, in my mind (it's where I think)

as this kid's giving birth in the hospital

or in her bathtub

is she moaning out about how graceful it all is

how this parasite's been inside living off of her for most of the gregorian year

a creature pushing out uncontrollably

about ready to kill her, & finally

that it's filled with blood & skin & miniorgans

and all so grace-filled?

with its little closed-eye expression

& toothless scream-out,

that she, that it be the grace of god?

Gross.

There was a girl in jr high with me named Grace

(& we called her Gross, pretty mean)

and she had posters of nsync on every inch of her room

so you had no idea where the walls were.

I never was inside her room

or in her house

but we were neighbors so when she had her lights on at night

I couldn't believe it.

I mean, nsync is good

but really?

Maybe Gracie in her little stupid babybrain

knows totally that she's just got to get out of there

she's gestated

she's turning

she's got limbs, & little healthful graceful organs

& a little angelic face, so they say when she comes out & they rub her down in soft towels

& stick the baster in her nose

& blow out her kid mom's fluids

so she can stop breathing what she has been

& come out & do it like a human being.

Maybe Gracie in her little, insignificant mind

with her eyes already open,

& seeing better than I can 

or you can

looking about, speechless, graceless,

is thinking 

hey

I got out of there

& it was a prison

& I am a free man

& I will tattoo the world with my fullness

& I am eager to devour it

with the windows open

with the blinds shattered,

that Curtain City is closed until death

which is way, way too graceful & far away

oozehair

Tonight I went to a dinner party for a best old friend

and he made chicken in the oven and with tiny tomatoes and tiny asparaguys

and I sat across the table from an old still someone from teen years,

but with his two parents flanking us,

and I practiced with knife & fork to shred the thigh

this little juice thigh, and I also thought I don't know how to cut meat from the bone

because I was so meatless for so long

& I like chicken only twice, now

so nothing I think like would be perfect bacon

I listen to this song by adele a lot

where she walks through paris

on the rain bridges

with the jawbone & the cheekbone & the buttchin

looking sad like crying sad

like sad crying sad

sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead

The dinner conversation, how to kill a chicken how a grizzly kills a fish don't you gut a fish before you eat it, don't you pluck a chicken once it's dead?

I thought your parents were great. I liked the creamcheese frosting

My eyelashes rainwiping the insides of my glasses

if you call me I will answer,

if you call me I am calling you back

and I am talking to you for a million years

I came to my room & opened the door

and I found a smell to trap

sorry if you think that's gross, but the odor is in my top five.

I was afraid of the bedroom, waited till 9

I was afraid of the bed

I was afraid of the bedside wine box

I was afraid of the pillow, the pillow we stole and wanted & somehow sometimes shared

I was scared of one side of the bed

I am afraid to go into it

but I came and in the dark breathed it all in, pillowed

& filled with scents of another other than me

and you & me
and I am afraid more that should it not become an artifact
a museum room
in all its dust
and fur
and hair
and debris, and all of the soak in it
I'm taking pictures with the fingers on my face
& the fingers in my nose
in snaps and little licks

I washed my hair today, but it is not a better person for it

it is better though