Parting

Author’s note: My love life is like a roller coaster.

I’m not sure if you know
That you ate my heart,
That time you invited me into your home.

Mahogany iris aglow,
Practicing a black art,
Depressing cuts into my styrofoam

Skin, impressionable,
Unwavering attention
To the fragments on my tongue.

This union irrevocable,
Eclipsing inner dimensions
Of reason. Panicked notes unsung.

And these notes
Lie now at
The end of my carnal bed.

A passionate cutthroat
Who spat
Saccharine lyrics at me instead

Of words cruel
And unkind,
How I wish you voiced the cruel words.

I, the April fool,
Am now inclined
To cry the mornings like a songbird.

Twisted howls,
Your reply
Of consolation, a pat on the back.

Untruths of your jowl
Masked in sighs
Now pierce me with a smack.

I make these
Mistakes of
Producing a vaudeville of my heart

For all to see.
Transparent gloves
Worn to keep you far apart

From me.
Your gloves thicker
I can’t see your hands

Crusted with algae
And hard liquor
I will sift you from the sand.

Goodbye wicked
Thing of beauty
Your teeth so rotten from all the sugar

Sour, crooked,
You never knew me,
Sincerely, your forgetful stomach ulcer.

I will however,
Remember your
Acne scars and pupils so deep

Never to sever,
Your openings sore,
Confessions from a black sheep.

Strange hourglass
Pattern of hair,
Gracing your body when you lie on your back.

You are Venus
Look there!
I am Pluto, cultivating your dental plaque.

I want you
All of you
All that you are, the karmic stars tell of me.

I want your truth,
Un-brewed,
I will not stop until you’re on your knees.

 

Culebra

I have seen many snakes.
Crafty serpents,
spiraling around the cypress tree outside my window.
I see them coil about my sister’s birthday cake,
and slithering in the pavement cracks.
I see tiny snakes
slide down the shower drain.
I see them sidewinding
on the doors of our vacant storage rooms.
Their beady eyes,
constricted slits.
As yellow as my hepatitis.
I see them prey on my open fears;
Gluttonous lumps traveling down the body.
They move in S-shapes,
underneath my divided tongue.
One day, my sixfingered hand
Will take them with an asphyxiated curl.

Chronology (first draft/cheesy love poem)

Author’s Note: A response to “Chronology” by Diane Di Prima

In October,
I felt desperation, some define as love,
Flooding my veins,
I knew I would never be worth anything
Until I received a man’s love.
Yours.

In November,
Your sweet untruths
Encased my mind in
Dramatised tension.
I dreamt that your teeth fell into my mouth
I didn’t tell you
And I quietly spit them out
onto the floor.
The thought came to me
That I cannot do this anymore.

In December,
The light flickered,
As I held your coat
And you fled to L.A.

January comes and your
Greatness darkens.
Warm snow skirts the rim of your left nostril
And my anxiety absconds
Into epileptic shaking, chattering tooth decay.
From all the cigarette smoke
Held in your iris.

You taught me that love is transient
You taught me that the stories are true
I could have only learned these things
From a tragic figure like you.

Unfortunate spirits
Encapsulated the room
As we stroked each other’s palms.

The used condom decorated your shelf
The condom we didn’t use.
But this is the path I did choose.
I wanted to be used by you.

Because I wanted to find truth
But she has been hiding in the rug beneath your feet that you never tread from
She lay there, unable to breathe,
Abused.