Monday, March 28, 2011

You Should Remember

I go ghost sometimes.

Sorry? I am. But don't I make it worth your while?

Yes! And if I don't, don't correct me!

I need my ego these days.

Here's a 10-1. Click that link to see what a 10-1 is if you're a new pair of eyes.

I have a couple of these.


You must have forgotten about my temper.

That I am Zeus in his arrogance.
Lightning ever ready.
You don't want to be the fried tree
In the way of a traveler's commute
Do you?

I have a problem

With seeing things
As I am.
You are not as I am.
You are a mixed blessing.
But hey, aren't they all?

You're only human.

You're no superwoman.

I remember Harlem

Toasted in the back of my neck
Biting at the frost of your arms.
I'll always remember.
But I can't forget I've moved on.

"You are very

Sure of yourself aren't you?"


Is like Time.
We just don't know where it will lead us.

My voice gets trapped in the furniture here.

How clever you have been!
Ensnaring my voice in wood,
Captivating my words in metal and linen.
You're counting on my insanity
Aren't you?


Isn't the only thing about us.
Isn't the only thing
I'm afraid of.

I'm old enough

To know a snake when I see one
To know a trap when I see one
To booby trap
To tame a beast
To gain a pet
If I want one.

You've never been wiser.

I've never been wiser.
Have never been

Today I Am Rambling

is a wretched condition.

I am jealous of boys who play nurse to their mothers, wait on them hand and foot.

I am jealous of the mothers.

Jealous that authority doesn't always just bridge the generation gap, no, instead it is threaded to her apron.

I am fearful of being that girl in the back of the closet

Behind that old sneaker smell, folded on forgotten sweaters.

The only thing worse than Jealousy is Longing.

It is the infant gnawing on raw nipples, savage, unapologetic.

It is as viral as hunger, as blinding as pain, that drive is too demanding!

I long for myself.

For a braver woman, a woman of no nonsense.

A woman who makes a woman's mistakes. Not a girl's but a woman's.

I COULD say a woman wouldn't have done the things I have done but that wouldn't be true.

She wouldn't have done the things I have done AGAIN or as often.

For women were girls once, even though I am no longer a girl.

I am the dusk and dawn of my era.

I am the rise and set of my age.

Sometimes I long for a man who tries to parallel me.

He is aggressive.

As succulent as the after pain of a neck bite.

All teeth. Gentle.

He is a
MAN, muscular, feral, predatory.

Protective. Interested.

His lips are no longer a myth, they are a tradition.

This man knows what I mean when I say awesome.


He knows he is the difference and I am the tone.

Then I stop dreaming.

I stop longing.

I put on my pants, apply some eyeliner and get ready to go to work.

I go back to train fares and stations, dirty break rooms, dreading my sister's return.

I go back to blocking out the white bred radio, humming unfinished songs, watching time tick.

I try to forget that this space, this time, my "home" is a library.

I try to forget that I am borrowing here.

That there is a fine and I already pay a lot of prices.

But most importantly I try to forget the longing.

That jealousy is its sister.

I try to forget that I long for HE who is shelter and passion.

And I try to remember to be all