i like to wear the black t shirts like Lou Reed wore
and my eyelashes full of black goop eyeliner slapped on crooked
the kids they talk of Spotify but they’ve never felt the living beat of playing a Fender Jazz bass guitar im just a girl but not really just uh girl there’s kinda a lot of intersectionality my heart she beats in tiny bits when we see your smile and when i bathe i hear Sweet Jane whispering to me under water and on some nights my eyes can’t sleep we chew our nails and tap our feet the holes on my black jean’s get wider i think my feet are kinda big as i bounce twinkling stars off the tips of my toes from the blue sill of my bedroom window but then the sounds of laughter travels from some neighbor’s t.v. reminding me of the possibility that i might just order botox shots tomorrow
Aging
directly at the sun
there are no more metaphors
it is what it is
it has always been that way
but i couldn’t really see
no more soothing loving touches
like the caressing of a wave
you are gone in body now
in heart you were never here
i’m a creature who loved the dark
my metaphor box is empty now
perhaps just a dried mosquito wing inside blown in from the mountains
no more dancing gracefully like the darling swan nor can i really say that my wings have been completely clipped
every now and again when my brain breaks free
some grungy renagade metaphor breaks free and i fall into my norm
but yes the metaphors divorced me cold got up and walked away
they drifted toward a London fog
never seeing them again
in my life now a rose by any other name can be a rocking chair
driven like the snow
drives in the month of June
the end of my winding road
seems to not appear
but with Papa Hemingway by my side death might play peekaboo
at midnight’s xylophonic stroke
but until then my body bare will lay in suspended state supine and starring directly at the sun
peek a boo
nobody i know
lives daintily anymore
life ever changing
coração sagrado
used to
the mania left
no confetti on the floors
just bits of distorted senses
peanut butter jar lady fingers but no one to lick them
i’m out of maxi pads
but i dont really want to
go out now
closing my lashes pills on my tongue
to keep death from threatening and being a fool
when i was young i saw the gold sound of BBs Lucille rising like smoke when a pope is chosen
life has come and stayed in the mess next to me
thrill in the last throes of something long gone
Sunday eve
it had to be
God called and you went
in your stead a smile was left
still i miss you so
a lingering
features and faith fade
color of my lips brilliance of my eyes
but your touch haunts me
dew
morning sweet grass grows
nature covers it with life
we are born once more
my trip with Azrael
you know the time is nigh
you won’t need anything
would you agree
yes i’m prepared
while we travel can i tell you
how i loved the cool walks
the strong espressos and
the smell of fresh baked croissants over at Figaros
and when i was young
i loved the life that was
fast hard strong and brutal
was that when you felt invincible
Azrael asked
i suppose i didnt really feel anything
can i tell you about all of the beautiful people
dressed in all the colors and walk
step by step
and the children
they the true celestial thousand points of light multiply in God’s eyes forever
did you incur any regrets after all you’re just a human Azrael reminded
time lost revelling in my hatred and my pain first of self then of my nature of my sins and my enemies my inability for many years to feel with all of me
and seeing that i was about to cry Azrael lifted me with warmth and ease as my last breath sweet with smells of incense drew from me a soul unique and we clasp hands into the light of eternity
words less spoken 