The Infinite

My father and i sat on the back porch together.
The metal chair left diagonal imprints on the backs of my legs.
My dad slowly rocked the chair back and forth and i began to rock too.
We said nothing in a comfortable silence, like a pillow that gives in with incredible
intimacy and support.

The sweet smell of tulips drifted towards me with the wind like the ocean tide.
The mourning doves cooed and in my mind's eye, I was nine years old again
calling back to them with a smile. Not understanding their name.
Thinking of 'morning.'

Another smell came from the house.
A hazelnut coffee candle brings my mother to my mind.
I thought of warm towels with the scent from the fabric softener that only works with her
water, her chemicals, her scents.

I looked across the yard to the massive gingko tree with fan shaped leaves modestly
covering the branches like a geisha waiting for her lover.
My eye traveled up towards the magical place where the trees kiss the sky.
The sapphire blue was freckled with four perfect clouds, each in a distinct shape.
Carousel horse
Puppy
Castle
A tear

The red brick of the garage seemed more vibrant than the day before and it was almost
moving with the energy of life.

"Stacey," said my father, breaking the sacred silence, "I want you to take a photograph of
this moment in your mind.
It is a perfect day;
you must always appreciate these. They don't come around too often."

I look to my left at the St. Bernard of a man who sits with me. The only man
in my life.
I gave a slight smile and looked back to the sky.
Crystallizing that exact shade of blue.
I'd be gone soon. So would he.

My eyes burned and began to swell as i blinked back tears.
The gingko will stand when we are gone. Marrying the sky
every morning.

Comedy Show

I am in joyful pain
sharp teeth brush my flesh but do not
puncture
again and again i reach to my sister
my n early perfect twin

Our appendages touch and embrace
as we wait for the next punch line
thank goodness it wasn't that funny.

i am now in a jungle of hair
dancing with the few strands who come
to join me.
i spin each around and around
until i cannot remember their names
finally, i decend to the table

My sister is busy
hugging a glass of upland
wheat ale
Theya re in a passionate embrace.
Sweat transferring.
Tears flowing.

WE again meet and the pleasurable pain returns
as we send our appreciation
to the comedian 3 feet away

*

I'm trapped
under cheap plywood and ugly veneer.
Suffocating myself with my sister.

The bruise from where i fell down keeps
me company
The cut from shving keeps my sister
from isolation

I hear distand laughter
I am hit and stuck in stale gum
Again i retreat
A bit sticker, but not in pain.

I jump to keep warm
The punch lines are muffled
as though he speaks through a telephone
with a handkerchief over the reciever
and hotdogs in his mouth.

Can we leave yet?
I suffocate my sister
we switch to keep each other happy.

"town writing" free write

this was an in-cass assignment where we were all given descriptive quips about a character in one town and had to write about them.


When i was 18, my best friend was the star quarterback. I was head cheerleader but quit after 3 seasons. Bill's girlfriend of four years, her name was sara, was a friend of mine too. Swimming star. She liked me well enough, but i always saw the looks she'd give Bill as i spoke with him before french. I hated relationships but kept that to myself. I"m a free spirit. A lost 60s child in a world of match dot com and finding true love. "you're nobody till somebody loves you."

So instead i kept friends. Male friends, female friends, 'couple friends', which of course were most prominent. They'd keep away from me seperately. Bill doesn't come over to watch terminator 2 with me unless sara comes. and then it isn't as fun, because sara doesn't like guns. Or accents.

When i returned home after college, it seemed people didn't grow up. their jealousy and lack of trust kept me from close friendships. Jack and i could watch football on sunday, but it had to be at a bar where the eyes of Kristin's friends could lock onto the activity and quickly report back with any unacceptable warning signs. i've often wondered if i should just be with a man so i can have friendships.

It Was Good In Theory

(Prose poem)

It Was Good In Theory

The micro-waved leftovers make my teeth bounce like acorns on a trampoline. The candelabra is overpowering and creating empty holes where your eyes should be. The steak tips are tires in my mouth and the gravy is chalk stuck in the crevices of my teeth. The peas I control on my plate are lost BBs. Separated in battle from their general and now POWs on my fork. Your V-day dinner should be recalled. This music must be a sick joke as your favorite Nine Inch Nails song plays on your stereo. I launch a pea in my mouth and it almost cracks my tooth. The romantic mood has fallen out like the aftermath of atomic warfare. My hair is my protection from your gaze. My brow, from this angle, nearly perfect McDonald’s arches as the eyebrow hair distorts my view of you. I drink the wine that is as pink as a pencil’s eraser. Tastes of water and rubbing alcohol. You really spent too much on me darling. Boxed wine doesn’t come cheap. The only salt my food receives is from the tear that falls onto the mashed potatoes and is quickly absorbed by the parched spuds.

Infectious Disease Barbie

(Imitation of Denise Duhamel's work...)

Infectious Disease Barbie

Barbie waits by the water cooler for Ken to appear.
Her azure blouse matches her eyes perfectly.
And as Ken walks up to her, his tie is the same
blue as her eyes.

A quick glance the jumps from Barbie to her lover
is as urgent as salmon jumping upstream.
They return to saving the lives of the innocents in the
criminal world of rapes and murders.

The end of the day brings Barbie to the Positive Link Program
at the local hospital.
Her plastic fingers, molded together, can't sweat,
let alone twiddle as they desire.
Her smile is happy and confident but inside
her phantom stomach turns.

The test is difficult since there is no blood to draw
or cells to swab from the cheek.
But Barbie's not positive she's negative.
the needles that have punctured her face may have been used before.

Barbie hums songs from Rent over and over in her head.
As the doctor approaches, she beckons Barbie and tells her
She has a disease, but it's not likely to spread.

1994

(Imitaion poem of Nick Flynn..i suggest you check out his work)


1994

I found you reading your medicine labels.

They were billboards of your life that only you were allowed to see.

You swung me up into the sky at the park

& white plumage attacked me and the bread in my hand.

The man who came to help us is nice but he reminds me of Mr. Slugworth.

Your hand in his is like a zipper.

I watch you from behind my jungle gym monkey bars.

The prison i built for you.

You take me to an opera so i can experience sorrow.

I don't know the language.