Cynthia is a super hero from noon to 4pm
everyday except Tuesdays where she sits on balloons
covered in whip cream on pay by the minute internet chat.
A prince in skinny jeans charming comes along, saves her darkening dreary ways
even convinces her to remove her plastic heart
bullion board. 52 minutes later we find out he's got problems too.
A naked female
backs up into thickening fog
runs into a curtain of evergreens
breast strokes out into a lock nest blurry sea.
The credits roll after that.
A tree hovers above my friend Drea's house.
a colander of leaves up to your face.
I think of this scene:
Phone rings.
Spotlight on green telephone on mauve wall.
Ralph answers, hello.
I want 25 kisses, Shelia says.
In the background: Stop unplugging the vacuum cleaner.
But I want to make a cheese omelet.
Ralph says, I can't talk now.
Shelia hang's up. Then takes an online bipolar test.
I've been getting into the habit of throwing afghans over my head like a ghost in bed sheets.
I gave Rocky my house plant. It died 7 times and like the poem, "Lady Lazarus" keeps coming back:
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware Beware
out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
and I eat men like air.
Rocky writes this on a Double Tree note pad after two bottles of Oak Leaf Chardonnay then throws in away:
Running into someone
who sits in your mind
where the sun raises the room temperature
unexpectedly
is a lot like climbing another stair
when you've already reached the landing.
You fall forward, briefly legs ajar.
Steady, steady these horses
buck buck and buck.
Mother suddenly appears last Thursday sitting beside me on the couch.
Cushion mountains bunch up around her. Resting her hand on my arm,
she says, Your heart is sad. Sudden intimate speculations startle me.
Was I a child needing assistance identifying emotion? I didn't say anything.
Instead I got stoned,
lit the fireplace in the basement,
played dual screen Super Mario Cart on the Wii.
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