Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Pressing into my muscles
And sucking into my teeth
I dropped my stomach to the floor
Age of five
To floor your pedaled jaundiced breaks that wake to wind
For the God of you mother
You keeper of sky
At five you took me to our father
To soak my head in sins for
Gifts to make you better
Narrow in your looking glass
Forever on your paper’s edge
Myself christened in guilt
Mouth of blood
Lungs of heat
Nails of grout
Splashed to believe
This was my bed
You were my sheets
Folded in the molded forms you made for me
You said you’d be my parking lot
You said the pounds would feather down
I stayed inside all day for you
I whittled knees to bow to you
I harnessed backs to carry you
I Matted hair to goats with you
And froze the milk in cubes for you
Played the games on gagging pipes
On seven floors
To tip the scale
To wrong the way
To gram the crust
In countless chews of circus breaks
In waves to wake the song that’s caged
In ink to draw the strings that bind
The words to find it’s bigger now
Stronger in the giant land
Wide in the butter dish
Drained from the purge on the swing of your curse
Trail of hips good night
I’m the moon good bye
~Skin and Toast
~Skin and Toast
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
As soon as I understood that there was a dead brother,
I became obsessed with finding him,
I must have learned about Erick
Around the same time I learned about reincarnation.
And religious war.
Not to mention Dr. Spock and jelly jars.
Expectations drinking wine.
Charted life goals digging diamonds.
Jim dear, Darling.
Guess who’s coming?
The one’s who suffer, wrap in water,
Soft sculled best friends sharing blood banks.
Antique drum circles propped up sideways on mahogany buffets for decoration,
Never to be played.
Just filling a space,
For other people to look at and say,
I sure wish that was me.
I was much older when I learned that Erick was part of the reason my parents couldn't stay.
And older still when I learned that I was part of all these reasons and swan songs.
And scoured pots and missing keys.
What do they do with their wedding rings once it’s all over?
Just rattle it around a sock drawer?
I’m sure that everyone regrets having children at some point.
I’m sure that everyone turns around and says,
I’m sure that the hair stops growing under the band,
Like the bald ankle inside a man’s sock.
But there’s no registration at Target for the marriage of the stillborn and the born.
That role is left undefined as I am left undefined.
Holding Jem’s hand over piles of chilled bones,
I’m Scouting the trenches for possible big brother candidates.
Knowing full well I’ll never get him to stay.
I’m not searching for daddies.
I never wanted a daddy.
I could do without a mother.
And the sister’s have families of their own.
Even their very own suicide,
And levels of wrong.
Maybe we’re all alcoholics.
But, if we’re looking for the first thing that we lost,
The first thing would have to be the blue baby with the Viking name.
And the half brothers are solid
I want an older all mine
It’s not fair what I do to these poor innocent born people.
They’re just trying to fill out their own rabbit black holes.
I have always been guilty of loving too much.
I call it eczema,
It’s really organs worn on the outside.
I have to say it takes the wind
It takes the dog
It takes the car
(Down the stairs, and out the back, bye bye, be safe, don’t fall, don’t grow, for that)
It wears moccasins, and calls me names, and rides me home. It wets the grapes, it’s never mad.