a pretend genius broadsuction
a window for optimism

animals get lucky
out there where the tinkling windchimes decide the tone
a length of lace won’t change it

there is nothing wrong with the window I should not worry about the curtain

if it ever gets warm
I will open the thing and scream
from the highest point in my dirty lungs
won’t you be my fucking neighbor

the dog needs an orgasm she can’t help it
she has no one to touch that spot
except the cat and the cat
is uncooperative

I am a cul-de-sac soul
a semi-circle of open doors
transplanted in the middle of a squared block
surrounded by rectangles

some people do not adjust to loss
I like to walk when I lose my keys
there are seventy-nine reasons why I can’t be your girl
just one why I should

walking the dog was once a hello how do you do
type of thing, a gee your yard looks nice
how’s the hydrangea, did you ever
fix that lawnmower or find the tip of that finger

the cat howls again from the basement, tattle-tales
stop this fucking
right meow

I want to go home
where the lavender walls were warm
where circles were safe
windows stayed open well into autumn

sweeping the kitchen floor I think
humans are all so unaware
so many tiny little universes disevolved
moving from places that should not be left

this is my moment
the one I don’t talk about
where I know and I know and I know
and there is nothing I can do but continue to know

the thing that is right
the thing that should be done but isn’t
is out there where animals know more
and they don’t get it right either

there’s a storm coming in
the curtains wave their flags in surrender
and will soon let go from the broken rod
I refuse I refuse I refuse

to close the thing again
Entire Contents Copyright ©2003, 2004, 2005 writeThis.com and author. All Rights Reserved.
vol. iii, issue i
feb 14, 2006