Showing posts with label teens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teens. Show all posts

25 December 2013

confidence mustard

christmas 2013

I did the same thing they do, how many years, teens in the street, thin merino wool caps and northface jackets, shiny pillow coats filled with weightless goosefur. gray earlynight light, bald trees and trees few in leaves, silhouetted always, for daily we're twilighting. the dog moans, the house is empty save for us. all of the windows seem uncurtained, meaning there are curtains but they're heavy, and folded or shoved away, impossible curtains. I'm leaving Idaho in the morning.

26 August 2013

get mello

hey, chocolate
hey, me
how is this southern night so quiet? where're my bigbugs
just the subtle quiet singers tonight?
and topless bandana'd summer teens on the porch across the street
in hammock house
the forsale sign is gone
hey, pretty mansionhouse
I love it in you

15 July 2013

cruelbod

the teens are sitting on the bleachers at the highschool
but they aren't teens, anymore, basically 30 now
kelly is arched back in a vermilion haltertop
and tad lays flat, looking at the stars.
she graduated from highschool
and comes & drinks rose on ice
on the bleachers
she does reverse cowgirl on the bleachers
tries to pee between steps
as latenight athletes run the track.
God, why aren't YOU running with them, she accuses tad
who exhales smoke
and sips rose, ice clinking in his plastic cuppy.
I know, right
kelly sat with brody
on the highschool bleachers
when she was pushing 30, a couple of augusts ago
she was wearing a white dress and a denim jacket
and brody was drinking a big beer
he was trying to convince her to just drive with him all night to nevada
so they could get married
she thought that sounded like fun
but they'd just met the day before
and she knew they'd get sick of each other halfway there.
she never sat on those bleachers when she was in highschool,
just after she moved begrudgingly back after years away
and it was only twice, and past midnight
with guys named tad and brody.
kelly only fucked brodys, now
she was done with seths and aarons and todds.
she is feeling pretty superior in her vermilion haltertop
she is looking good, teenlike
she tells tad about the jeremy she'd been harassing
and tad tells her, kindly, that she's been humiliating herself.
she is gleeful
she doesn't care, has nothing to lose
she claims a lack of cruel organs in her cinnamon bod.
but she's a liar,
and pathetic,
and she's alone in life and she's mean
so she smokes & she chugs
& she takes her shoes off and pees freely.
she's got those good strong outside peeing legs.
she says Whatever
I'm Me
never growing up
just justifying her moves
with evil eye glimmers
and secret, hopeful tears

23 June 2013

last call girl

I'm the end-of-night girl
I'm your last chance
the bar is lit
the teens are falling down the hill towards their cars
I'm closing this place down.
can you talk to me
can you walk me home
can you get my number,
can you call me tomorrow
can you kiss me
can you
  hey, free country
pretend
I'm not your last-resort
I'm not an act of desperation
that you're listening
when I tell you
  I'm in med school
  I'm 35
  I'm moving to hawaii in 4 days
  I'm gay
&tc.

29 April 2013

lemon bag


When I was last there,
inside sad cave london room, with the rooks on the roofs
Why isn't rooves the plural, by the way?

When I was locked in that room I started drawing with a tiny paintbrush & india ink
pictures of the Olsen twins
and I'd find their photos
attached to the livejournals
of anorexic teens.
this is where I learned the term
 thinspiration
(an expression not found by the iPad)
and I looked at selfies of knobby spines
and clavicles sharp enough to cut cheese
and I read advice from pro-anas
to struggling anas-in-waiting
about how to get skinny
and someone wrote about drinking lemonade made with maple syrup
and I thought, damn that sounds good.


When I couldn't eat I knew I had to put something in me
my body was 21 years old
it was young
but it was a bag
there was nothing left in it
I was shriveling away
And I remember looking into the mirror once while I took a shower
because my housemate thought it sexy to watch oneself bathe
and I had grown so little
like a teen
like a teen with a blog
who could advise other teens
on how to let their skin tighten around their sad little bones
But I didn't like the girl I saw, that shivering little teen
because she wore her devastations like foodservice film
clinging to whatever was leftovers

So I drank that lemonade, like what else could I do? I drank it every day, all day. I drank it so much my urine was lemons, my shit was maple blood. Tapped, juiced. And my organs drifted out through the  holes left,
and I had all of the energy
of all of the suns,
and I was thinspiring the universe to bony tears