mercredi, novembre 23, 2005

little birds bite the hardest

where are you now, little one,

where have you flown

are you eagle-eyed lonely

are you all about grown

where have you gone, little one,

and where are your teeth

I saw you crumbling

for want of air beneath

a mountain of trouble

smothered and tried

and here christmas is coming

and your mother’s just died

why didn’t you fight, little one,

why didn’t you run

from rapists and ex-cons

with their waistcoats undone

I would give you shelter

I would be your friend

why are you defending

these undefendable men

lundi, novembre 21, 2005

Auntie Rita

This morning I dreamt
I had a butterball turkey
in the oven...
(should they eat together?
No , they meet a different way.)
And I was riding the bus -
there are always buses in my dreams -
that had queers and prune women
and winter coats with fraying edges
and everyone on them remembered
winter’s anger from last year
and everyone felt chastised
for enjoying summer and we made ourselves
regret the smiles we wore
when the sun was hot and loving.

Ah. The turkey's almost done.

jeudi, novembre 10, 2005


i mostly aim for clever
don't always hit it
and that makes me cute
cuz I'm a girl