12.27.2009
Lineage
The first mother came from Eastern Europe
without her husband.
She couldn't wait.
Her baby died, so she had another one,
but hated it.
That baby turned into
the second mother,
and she called the dog by her daughter's name
when she was scolding it.
Her daughter wanted to be a good mother,
but had a dangerous look in her eyes.
She always said, "What am I? Chopped liver?"
Her son was my father.
He read the newspaper like someone was hurting him,
but there was no one there
except me.
I'll be the fifth.
I already practice breathing in a way
that makes me radiate kindness.
I am not the first to imagine my baby asleep beside me.
It makes me happier than I've ever been,
and I coo, Poor baby.
The first mother came from Eastern Europe
without her husband.
She couldn't wait.
Her baby died, so she had another one,
but hated it.
That baby turned into
the second mother,
and she called the dog by her daughter's name
when she was scolding it.
Her daughter wanted to be a good mother,
but had a dangerous look in her eyes.
She always said, "What am I? Chopped liver?"
Her son was my father.
He read the newspaper like someone was hurting him,
but there was no one there
except me.
I'll be the fifth.
I already practice breathing in a way
that makes me radiate kindness.
I am not the first to imagine my baby asleep beside me.
It makes me happier than I've ever been,
and I coo, Poor baby.
10.13.2008
The Decision
Some things were always sexy.
Even before fire
and cave drawings,
men used the backs of their hands
to wipe sweat off their foreheads,
and women looked up in surprise.
And people broke out in laughter,
rocking back and forth, touching each other's wrists.
People made each other cry
and then made up and, already
leaning together
in shame and complicity,
their decision was no decision at all.
Some things were always sexy.
Even before fire
and cave drawings,
men used the backs of their hands
to wipe sweat off their foreheads,
and women looked up in surprise.
And people broke out in laughter,
rocking back and forth, touching each other's wrists.
People made each other cry
and then made up and, already
leaning together
in shame and complicity,
their decision was no decision at all.
2.10.2008
Slave
In her first video, she dressed up like a private school girl.
Everyone was her for Halloween
even on progressive college campuses.
People lost their virginities that night.
She had beautiful legs and an ass that was featured in magazines.
After kissing a woman on stage,
she said it wasn't her idea.
She was sort of game for anything.
Men asked her if she liked it and she said she did.
She was beautiful. Her skin was rubbed
with some kind of glittery lotion.
After her divorce,
she said she had this feeling in her chest
that wouldn't go away.
There was an ex-boyfriend, the one we think
she really loved, who wrote her a letter.
Tears streamed down her face
in the rehab center where she read it.
Her hair was gone then. You could really see her face.
In her first video, she dressed up like a private school girl.
Everyone was her for Halloween
even on progressive college campuses.
People lost their virginities that night.
She had beautiful legs and an ass that was featured in magazines.
After kissing a woman on stage,
she said it wasn't her idea.
She was sort of game for anything.
Men asked her if she liked it and she said she did.
She was beautiful. Her skin was rubbed
with some kind of glittery lotion.
After her divorce,
she said she had this feeling in her chest
that wouldn't go away.
There was an ex-boyfriend, the one we think
she really loved, who wrote her a letter.
Tears streamed down her face
in the rehab center where she read it.
Her hair was gone then. You could really see her face.
1.28.2008
Parents
after sex and therapy,When I grew up,
I called to tell them.
1.16.2008
Leading Man
The bad guy turned out to be
good. He used to stare at you at parties.
The night you were jumped
by racists, he sprang from the shadows,
wrapped you in blankets.
You woke up nestled in cushions in your bed.
He is a man of dreams,
sometimes young with a black beard,
sometimes climbing steps
in a cement stairwell.
No surprise to find him in a book.
In reality he was a prickly, painful man,
who couldn't hear his own name
when you called it. All he every did
for you was stop on a landing once and
turn around, smiling.
The bad guy turned out to be
good. He used to stare at you at parties.
The night you were jumped
by racists, he sprang from the shadows,
wrapped you in blankets.
You woke up nestled in cushions in your bed.
He is a man of dreams,
sometimes young with a black beard,
sometimes climbing steps
in a cement stairwell.
No surprise to find him in a book.
In reality he was a prickly, painful man,
who couldn't hear his own name
when you called it. All he every did
for you was stop on a landing once and
turn around, smiling.
4.08.2007
To the Park
I carry one baby on each hip
and push two in a double stroller.
One rides on my shoulders,
holding fistfuls of my hair.
One is strapped to my back
and another to my front.
We all eat ice cream in the grass.
Some of the babies eat grass
while I sing Lucinda Williams songs
in a sorrowful, southern drawl.
I used to be sorrowful,
but not anymore.
Now I sing to my babies
and I show them how to clap their hands
if they can manage to open their hands
and make them flat.
I hear the muffled sound
of my cell phone ringing.
It is my roommate calling to complain
about her job.
But I don’t understand unhappiness anymore.
I don’t have a job
and I don’t have a roommate.
I have babies.
I take them to the park
and sit them in the shade
and smooth the fine hair
off their sweaty, concentrating faces.
I carry one baby on each hip
and push two in a double stroller.
One rides on my shoulders,
holding fistfuls of my hair.
One is strapped to my back
and another to my front.
We all eat ice cream in the grass.
Some of the babies eat grass
while I sing Lucinda Williams songs
in a sorrowful, southern drawl.
I used to be sorrowful,
but not anymore.
Now I sing to my babies
and I show them how to clap their hands
if they can manage to open their hands
and make them flat.
I hear the muffled sound
of my cell phone ringing.
It is my roommate calling to complain
about her job.
But I don’t understand unhappiness anymore.
I don’t have a job
and I don’t have a roommate.
I have babies.
I take them to the park
and sit them in the shade
and smooth the fine hair
off their sweaty, concentrating faces.
9.30.2006
Everything You Need to Know
She was a girl
who walked to school with wet hair,
who read about other girls
in a magazine at a train station.
She was a brunette
who wore her hair short
like a boy's
who used to dress up
like a nightclub singer
behind a locked bedroom door.
Have you ever seen a girl
who looks like she doesn't want it
but really she wants it?
Really she looks like she wants it?
She was a girl
who walked to school with wet hair,
who read about other girls
in a magazine at a train station.
She was a brunette
who wore her hair short
like a boy's
who used to dress up
like a nightclub singer
behind a locked bedroom door.
Have you ever seen a girl
who looks like she doesn't want it
but really she wants it?
Really she looks like she wants it?
