Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Eggs and Sleep

How are we supposed to find that golden casket?
How was I supposed to seal myself into dead ecstasy?
With the blood pulsing in my feet and hands,
She said, “Hmmm…”
I said, “What about? What about? What is it?”

Hadn’t stopped to consider anything before she said, “Hmmm”

When I was small I wrote a letter to God and I put it on top of the trashcan for him to get it.
How fitting.
There was the creek that ran through our neighborhood and I would watch that yellow water but only long enough to know that it was pretty deep there- best not to jump across at that moment of point.

The flock of mourning doves in the sky-
Why do they cry?
Why do they cry?

Peter the little leprechaun has a sprout garden.
Why do you always eat sprouts, Peter?
“Because meself I am much like a sprout that’s whot I am is what I is!”
Don’t the bunnies bother you how they nibble at your garden?
“Bunnies?! Why’d I bother meself for a mess of furry teeth, eh?”
Thump. Thump thump.

Said they found my trophy.
Someone had drowned it in the river?
All filled with mud.
The divers saw the glimmer, apparently.
But I still don’t have that shiny thing.
It’s being held.
“For what?”
I ask but they don’t say.

I found once a gold ring. I also found a silk sash.
One went buried in the ground and the other was on the sidewalk in New York.
I would listen to rappers tell me I could make it.
And that poor black man saw me sad on my way to work dressed like I tried too hard.
As we passed he said gentle, “Don’t let ‘em make your day, darlin’. You make your day.”

Every other year when I get myself silly on wine I like to walk around the party like an heiress dripping with diamonds- jutting out her hips to say, “Dahling do leave the wine on the floor and don’t clean it like a plebian. Whither the mess!”

Last year I met the charming man whose company if kept too long might bring one into a sneezing fit. CHOO to the dust of you! But he engaged. He said, “Lovely Lady…” though with his eyes he said, “I bet you’re drunk enough for me to get into that skirt.” And again with his mouth he spoke, “If you could be anywhere in the world aside from here, where would you be?” I grabbed his shoulder firm with my hand and said, “This is ground control to Major Tom. Your circuit’s dead. There’s something wrong. Can you hear me?”

Don't believe in cocaine
Got a speed-ball in my head
I could cut and crack you open
Do you hear what I said
Don't believe them when they tell me
There ain't no cure
The rich stay healthy
While the sick stay poor
I...I believe in love



Anonymous said...

Oh to awaken with all heart dead center & still,
hearing the soft sweet holy murmurings of our Patrician Lady who wears a band of gold with floral gems...
I am reminded of her,
love your writing! :-)

Shannon said...