unexpected places i consistently find myself in college:
– on a roof that i definitely should not be on. police may or may not follow
– in someone’s bathtub at a houseparty, usually drinking wine and talking gossip with whoever’s currently using the toilet
– in an art museum or botanical garden with a cute female friend of mine as i realize i have once again been taken on a stealth lesbian date
– sitting on the floor of a historic building in a cocktail dress during a gala/formal, eating chicken wings and/or stealing dozens of shrimp skewers
– in a walmart at 2 or 3 or 4am. sometimes i’m wearing a pirate hat. other times i’m sitting on the fabric cutting table in the arts dept. sometimes i steal a fish
– on top of a sofa or tabletop, screaming the lyrics to mr. brightside
– waffle house. always, always, waffle house
Tag: poetry
early summer
dried white mulberries smashed
between soft lips in the library. smears
of Revlon on burned skin. fire gleaming
through a glass of gold liquor; sparks
the same color shooting the full-moon sky.lipstick smeared across the grocery list;
familiar wine-red. too dark to kiss away.
black clothes, black eyelids, black eyes.
a cold park bench, a playground at 2 AM
and a chest that tastes of bile. a phone call
she doesn’t remember.splash violent violet
and green onto skin in the shape
of a crescent. “i can give you a better bruise
than that.” rap blaring from under
the bridge. breaking into the theatre,corridors echoing and empty. the pattern
of streetlights on tangled hair. the pattern
of sex and ache and anger. the pattern
of abandon, before throwing it up to consume
again. bleeding in bed, in war, and after
the running is done. the stink of vomit
on clean sheets.the stink of the love that won’t let go.
the ache of the ones who won’t leave me.
A prayer to Ares for blessing and protection
Ares Polemistes Talaurinus, I pray for you to take me under your brazen shield;
gird me in a belt of courage as you did your daughter Hippolyte.
Ares Oxys, put in my hand a bronze spear so I may spill the blood of men
Ares Obrimus allow me to put my small feet in the vast hollows of your footsteps,
Laossous rally my heart with the sound of your mighty spear beating against your shield
Gynaecothoenas allow me, maiden, to stand strong, a child amazon desirous of your favor and strength
Grant me the mindfulness to destroy those who seek to take from me-
watch over me in your fury as you did Alkippe.
Guide the strength of my hand and weight of my blow so they may strike to the very quick of my enemy
Miaephonus stain me with the blood of men, my open mouth accepts it as honey and bread; feed me.
Open me to my own violence, so I may inflict war upon the predatory hand and eyes
Let me fly as a hawk and strike as a poisonous serpent so men may know that I serve the god of blood and war.
for you, written with deep love
In a dusty studio, under pale lights
Hands busily crafting away
Imagination as untamed as wildfire
every home has a hearth,
around the stove warm and inviting,
aromas and love pour into playful mugs
and meals are shared without hesitation
giggles of delight and whispers cross your painted lips
eyes sparkling with childlike curiosity and plans
you and i partake of that which we are not supposed to
and we share that secret of corked bottles and smokey rooms
a toast, to those who love us and support us,
who build us up from the ashes
and who tear us down when we allow our rambunctious desires to play without supervision
a hit, for those moments we realize there truly are things out of our control
and the best we can do is savor the present whole heartedly
(Look at the beautiful thing my Best Friend wrote me)
The Carving Witch 