Little Mothers

Pointless reckoning Pecking at my days Beckoning my body Driving my eyes to stay open Little mothers PLAY TOGETHER Inside the big dipper, wind being part of womanly skin, such divine feeling Gestures of compassion and understanding swinging on a boat drifting afloat singing old songs we both knew we would love forever

A disturbance Mother Sunday Loud and random nature Alone and wild, pressure of drama my clownish, clone-like way How to act around others today.

I can’t stop coughing, leaping sparkling lungs I am paranoid that people are watching me sneak away days Why speak away days? Life can’t be a flirt..or can it? It makes me weak. A daydream, though simple, was an image presented in my own mind, and all of the images I saw as that young child, every image I saw.. This week I see the faces of cartoon bats neon in my eyelids I find everything personal..shampoo deodorant, whatever to be bugged, angering, or absolutely petrifying I feel afraid, deeply envious of those who may sit

Relax

Breathe

While my hands shake, vomit bubbling beneath Hypochondriac, don’t let go of your hyper shield!

I believe I've some Irish blood in me, as he

tried his best to be a boy and she cried her most

to be a girl

so we are just children laughing at lostness and feeling forgetful for our own listeners

I can see into the future and into the past Before these words were too dark on my retinas... We stood on the roof, he swung a hammer On a summer evening, sky growing dimmer We were in love, yes he was my lover

Blowing kisses in the summer wind Dancing through grave yards, telling stories in the stream

Benjamin’s bright golden hair with a skateboard beneath his little feet Sean and Chris hiding up in their rooms, what were they doing all those years? Standing while white clumps of thick snow fell all around

I know, I have heard.. Heavy heart, hollow heart

It’s ......what time do you want to go to sleep? should i just sleep in here i guess you can sleep with him..i don’t know

You’re intenses all aromatherapy all inhaling only have you given me more

Feet Everyone has ‘em Everyone has them

I’ll never see this place again I want to scream through a piano Waves of relief Release Prolific Never has been Scared to confirm Conform impaired must be me wailing corpses, the trailing crows writer blocsolox lots parking lots and trailer parks

set down silo siren pirate's play

Deceptive speakers repetative lights 26 May, 2012 I hate the date that rhymes with times of hatred and remorse

I am ready for no regretful way of living I am giving only to please the boring town surrounding me grown on the knowledge of forgetfulness leaving behind only theives and relatives hungering and heaving over ledges and leaving behind babies in attics waiting...

mamas milks mama citas robed and ready suckled and sadly on a balcony over bacon sicily bending sideways her hind legs flip another ham burglar alarm set to catch the crime how timely you crowch behind all those willow all that pine

bathe, now as we meow at her, village idiot,

wreck of our town going to drown here

on one of her disturbed days

not while we were around. no, not while we were in this town.. ............ round

you make breath seem evil nor can you see straight

I make like greed I cannot see straight

Hiding from the sequel Of another meeting and falling strangely in love Like all they ever told me about god almighty be true

Blank balk screen Point blank blink Of sarcasm she spazzed

Your last prayer Said in my own head Sent only after You’re deaf, numb and dead

All I think about is time

I hate nothing and everything, because I cannot seem to focus enough to choose between the two Everything hurts me look after look after look after look torture me with two eye balls And a brain to flip over the vision like a fucking hamburger that i chose to never even touch I am best at chili peppered I am postponed and put off I am schizoid woman Pronunciation grows weak after weeks of drug use Imagine the years between they and I My friends take me for a ride I am delicate as a widowed orchid I am no one to be about people I am not pier pressure For crying out loud

The voices I imagine occasionally repeat a thought of mine Mostly, the most random of voices, with the most random ideas I beginning to lose feeling in the right side of my body After the left once went entirely numb I fell t o t h e g r o u n d trying to walk up our old hill

I scratch my skin, incumbently, They laugh before they cannot function For what else can they do?

Seeking ambition Private flirtation With the idea of being exited again Instead all seems trivial So incredibly trifling

Little mothers Play together Having only Each other T o h o l d onto Ditched and feelin' like nobody to hold onto