Preparing my brain
to paint a fair "poem,"
I check out my pallette,
the colors swim, thinly
I gesso with "ANGER"
and brush smooth the surface
Isn't there room left
for anything more?
I scoop out "COMPASSION"
(a small dab'll do ya)
a pinch of "HOPE" (sprinkle,
conserve "HOPE"—for next time)
I ladle on "SCRIBBLES"
and "PROCRASTINATION"
"A BARK FROM MY PUPPY"
(he's scared of the rain)
Now, add "MY FIRST LOVER"
(the pain, not the kisses)
this "TENDERNESS" comes from
The Gift of the Magi
"TRADITION!" from Fiddler,
"MY ALGEBRA TEACHER"
"THAT PUDDLE I SPLASHED IN"
(I was a sixth-grader)
Some "HUMILIATION
FROM LAUGHING TOO LOUDLY
WHEN ALL OF THE OTHER GIRLS
MOCKED FRAN'S RED LEAKING"
Combined with the whispers:
"SHE LIVES WITH HER GRANDPA"
"THEY ALL LIVE IN TERROR!"
"HE BEATS THEM WHEN DRUNK!"
Oy...
Some "poem" I've made up,
from beating the bushes
of nightmares that haunt me
as I stare, awake
I glare at "INJUSTICE"
What!!!
"COLD, FAITHLESS HUSBANDS"
Why!?!
"MOTHERS FORGETTING
TO TUCK US GOODNIGHT"
...
