Monday, September 20, 2010

Pretty Girl Wishes She Was Naked

It's been two months since I've had sex
I'm slowly but surely getting used to the idea
of not having sex
I make my bed religiously
Wear see-through slips to bed
Shave my legs every night
Turn the air conditioner up real high
Stack blankets on top of me

There are high ceilings in my fantasies
Some boy turning me over onto my stomach
kissing my back and neck
pressing me against a concrete wall
ambulances in the distance
I am naked and he presses me against his headboard
helpless and captured in a pose hung from a wall

Maybe he met me on a blind date
Maybe he told me once that I wrote something good
Maybe he told me he loved me after his show
Maybe he made me an hour late for work
Maybe he was mesmerized by my body

All those boys
so quick
to comment on my body

All those boys
should know
girls are more than a body

Friday, September 17, 2010



It's that summer drone
the tease of a cool breeze
then the heat
as stiff as it was before
and the fabric against your skin is wet
you smell yourself
over and over
Is that me?
That is me.

tinker bell

Tinker Tinker Sweet Tracy Bell
I know you want your William Tell
but to this boy what will you say
to send him on his merry way
A Kiss
A Knod
A Fine Farewell
I love you dearly
Sweet Tracy Bell

peter pan

if Peter Pan ever thought to make his bed
he'd make it just like you
he'd have you to dinner
as the guest of honor
inviting you to take his seat
Wendy Darling would reset the plates
remind the lost boys to mind their manners
but they'll remind her it is Saturday
and then everyone will dance

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Collaspible Expressions

she couldn't take it seriously

everyone standing upright and rigid
shoulders thrown back
breasts held high
smiles frozen in time
awaiting their capture

so her chest caves in
her face explodes

suddenly she no longer exists
and thinks
a thousand words
when taken seriously
are worth far more than any photo

putting her head down
drawing in her breath
she takes off in a sprint
never thinking to look behind her
or wonder if the camera loves her back

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Structured Thought

coffee, cream, and sugar

I like my coffee to be the color of my skin
and it may be a little too sweet for you
and I would make it even sweeter
but cavities worry me

pinot noir, pot, and paranoia

Sometimes my lips and teeth are the color of my wine
and cigarettes aren't the only thing I smoke
These days I'd just rather be alone
I might not replace my phone

fourteen, twenty-eight, and beyond

I get crushes and it's like I'm still in junior high
none of my crushes liked me in junior high
I graduated ten years ago
so I'm wiping the slate clean

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Lock Your Keys in Your Car

One shouldn't romanticize suicide bombings
but I will anyways
I wonder who remembers your name
because I fear they must hate you the most
(the mothers of the victims)
but hope some love you despite you
( you must have had a mother)
I guess I want to romanticize
because it seems impossible to rationalize
murder and hijackings and a collapsible skyrise

Western and eastern thought and religion
or medicine
I live on East Capitol Avenue
and West Little Rock is sprawling (and gross)
completely inconvenient
unless you live on that side of town
But I live on East Capitol Avenue
Create my own thoughts
Create my own religion
I live in your sin (create my own medicine)

Sin has lost all meaning
you want to commit a crime against god?
kill a plane full of people
curse a nation of people
detonate the bomb strapped to your chest
condemn a man for his beliefs
write off school of thought
declare you're the only one that's right
refuse to accept
Refuse to accept.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

getting rained on indoors

I was quick to grab the dirty towels
I was writing a poem
'existenialism and spellcheck (in that order)'

I was sitting on the corner of my bed
my laptop perched on the window sill
my body at an angle

it starts to rain

I have a brilliant thought
I want to open my blinds
the streetfacing ones
I open my blinds

I pull on that cord and it trips a bucket of water
I am sitting in the middle of the rain
puddles gather around me
I am pulling my bed to the middle of the room

what is that noise?
I almost use a dress to gather the spill

I unplug my alarm clock
I pause
I leave my lamp plugged in
and the seashells and rocks on the window sill

I stand by the window
I'm standing in the middle of the rain
I close the blinds

the record player hums
I wonder how long it will rain
it stops raining

I smell my sheets

I'm romanticizing floods
wonder what I would contribute
and can't help but think
my dresses would make a pretty sail

Monday, September 6, 2010

Terry says, "You Don't Like Black Folk"

pit stains on my pretty dresses
don't make me feel bad
not even the one I paid full price for
but I do feel bad
that I never wear that dress
so I'm wearing it now
and have all day
sitting out on the street corner
while the bums introduce themselves
to me
one by one
they all want a cigarette
and a beer
and a laugh
it's hard for me to say no
I always have one or the other
tyrone and calvin and rick and robert jr.
i can't help but rememer their names
and I ask them
one by one
to keep an eye on me
as I pass them a handful of camel lights
and I remember
each and every time
that I am friendly to a fault
and wonder what it means
to be me
or to be Tyrone, Calvin, Rick, or Robert Jr.
or Terry, who just got my last cigarrette

Sunday, September 5, 2010


Life's Work

Anything worth having is hard work
and chances are
you should work harder

Cheap Thrills

I love that I can take thoughts like these seriously :

(insert quotation mark here)

I'm currently only reading me.
Wait, maybe Conor Oberst is my one true love.
I wish I had two hands.
Why isn't there something you can take that just makes you want to clean? Oh yeah, crystal meth. Fuck.
You can't beat that with a shtik. Yuk Yuk Yuk.
I just want to be here and be life-like.
New Orleans is a very well designed city.
I phone.
Maybe I'm God.
I'm gonna die alone and sad.
What if I was the most beautiful person in the world?
Wait, maybe I am Tracy Dean.
I don't care.

(end quotation mark)


Wine on sunday helps

The only thing on my grocery list is drano and razors
infer what you will
but i think it means
i want to take a shower with you

All these beautiful people
i barely know where i fit in


I've never been one to burn anything
but I do go bra-less every chance I get

Hold on to now for all it's worth.

God is Not an Editor

You have to correct your own mistakes.

Epic Sunday

to be honest, I misunderstood the word, "anthology"

Arkansas summers are a stumped toe
It hurts real bad at first
a dull constant heat
then it just goes away

Stevie Wonder is My New Favorite Person

sometimes I close my eyes and just start typing
like now
my fingers know where every word is hidden
I smile to myself when I complete a thought
getting lost in the tapping of the keys
what I'm saying is
I am Stevie Wonder

Gio and Bum

I've got a dove
I've got a dove a blue jay and a cardinal
and a poem slot machine


It hurts my feelings
that you somehow managed
to dream up drawbacks
to perfect dreams

Friday, September 3, 2010


Tuesday was Meggie's surprise birthday party

Wednesday I found two buttons on my passenger seat
My breastbone was proof and was bruised and was sore

Before that I walked from downtown to the bar
Lecturing and pep-talking myself the whole way

Thursday and Friday was police reports
My pointer finger was naked and was useless
Everyone was demanding something to reclaim my belongings

I kept thinking
I don't want to be jaded
I don't want to be jaded

Saturday I walked to work at sunrise and felt afraid
I was making a double mocha and I started to cry
I made a butterfly in the foam with the chocolate

I told you I think I might break down
I felt violated. I felt stupid. I felt regret.
But something inside of me said plainly and simply
Just be you

So instead of crying or cursing thieves
I said a prayer for the small man
I said a small prayer for every  man
And I took back what you had stolen from me

Because Mister, You can't steal my convictions

So to the man who robbed me in the middle of the night
I hope you enjoyed the short time you spent with me
Because it is very rare that a man like you
has the pleasure of the company
of a woman like me