Both Sides (v.1). April 7, 2008

Trigger alert:  This poem deals with suicide (attempted and otherwise).   Tread safely, etc.

Runaway Companion (v.1). April 7, 2008

Before I tried to be
the runaway, I told them I would
join the circus as a turtle-tamer
or sing on the subway trains
that ran New York. I thought
I could be the ultimate veteran,
the one who wisely counsels others
through the program, but never, herself,
leaves. I thought of it like a family
business I’d inherit happily, excel at,
not want to [...]

Runaway (v.1). April 7, 2008

In that half-a-heartbeat
when they turned their backs,
(having checked our plates
against our meal plans,
they went to fill their own), –
I stopped swallowing, breathing;
without a word, I threw myself
to my feet and fled the room.
I’d had nearly three months
to learn the halls. I didn’t see
them now; I simply ran
wondering how fast I could
walk without drawing attention.
I caught [...]

Tracing (v.1). April 7, 2008

For a long time afterward, “lost”
struck me as the perfect word;
I thought, if only I can find
her, I can keep her safe.
I started searching in my sleep;
I tried to track her down.
~
The first time I found her,
my jaw dropped. (I must have
believed her death, to some extent
or why that level of surprise?)
“Tracy,” I breathed. “Tracy.
“I [...]

UPS (v.1). April 7, 2008

Peeking through a window,
I saw a UPS truck,
which did nothing to calm me.
I trusted evidence to lie;
I trusted nothing that suggested
I was safe.
Sneaking through the hallways
of my own home, I didn’t realize
he’d curled around the side,
seeking out another door.
He caught sight of me
through a picture window,
shouted, “UPS!” I bolted;
now there was no playing
like I hadn’t [...]

Nova (v.1). April 7, 2008

One girl had never seen snow.
That autumn in Wisconsin
it first fell in October;
we gathered at the window,
and I watched her watch it fall.
So this is not only the fantasy
of movies. So this happens
somewhere other than TV.
I first met that girl on the eighteen-
inch television screen in my
family room back home. Her
face recorded to blank video
I [...]

Cart (v.6). April 7, 2008

She told me
every week she made
a list on loose-leaf: lime
tortilla chips, salsa
verde, fudge-striped
cookies, peanut butter,
whole grain breads, soda
with sugar, marshmallow
cereal, ice cream, pasta,
cheddar, ravioli,
and cream cheese.
Her cart a metal skeleton
cushioned with the fat
of all these foods, she
paced the aisles, adding
appetizers on impulse,
felt her heart creep
up her throat, swallowed,
choked, and swallowed,
sick on the routine.
Eventually, she left
the [...]

Notes on the Current Project. April 7, 2008

Since I have, how-do-I-put-it, seriously slacked off when it comes to “notes” on the various poems/ poem-bits, I figured I should at least give a word or two here about the project I’m currently working on, which the vast majority of my recent posts are from.  Basically, I’m trying to construct what I think will [...]

Enough (v.1). April 6, 2008

Trigger Alert: This poem contains images of rape and other violence.  Tread safely.

Cart (v.5). April 6, 2008

She told me
every week she made
a list on loose-leaf: lime
tortilla chips, salsa
verde, Fudge Shoppe
cookies, peanut butter,
whole grain breads, soda
with sugar, marshmallow
cereal, ice cream, pasta,
cheddar, macaroni,
and cream cheese.
                             Everything
she couldn’t let herself enjoy.
Her cart a metal skeleton,
cushioned with the fat of foods
she couldn’t eat, she paced
every aisle, adding
appetizers on impulse,
felt her heart creep up her throat,
swallowed, [...]