What's the point. Of all this pointless proximity. If you won't talk. Take me for a walk. Through a little story. . All these years. Have made me sick to tears.
Fourteenth street and the garbage swirls like a cyclone. Three-o-clock in the afternoon. And I am going home. F-train is full of high school students.
the big day has come. the bell is sounding. i run my hands through my hair one last time. outside the prison walls. the town is gathering. people are trading crime for crime.
Step up and forfeit your frontal lobe. To the sexed-up stroll of celebrity. Never mind that the nanoseconds in between. Are some of the darkest darkness that you've ever seen.
Cold and drizzly night in Chicago's deep dish. Fluorescent light of the bathroom. Shows my hands as they are. See an eyelash on my cheek. . Pick it off and make a wish.
Life use to be lifelike.. Now it's more like showbiz.. I wake up in the night & I don't know where the bathroom is.. And I don't know what town I'm in or what sky I am under..
Perpetrating counter culture she is walking through the park. First light ugly and more muscular than the dark. Pushing poems at the urban silence. Drawing portraits of the passers-by.
The wind is ruthless. The trees shake angry fingers at the sky. The people hunch their shoulders. Hold their collars over their ears and run by. . It's a cold rain.
Looks like my crazy family. Is down one crazy daughter 'cause. I'm shipwrecked in a desert that. Once was underwater just. . Looking for a swift turn of phrase.
I saw on the poster. My name was printed. Just a little bit smaller. I can tell you need to stand. Just a little bit taller. No one ever talks about it.
Emancipated minor. Well directed, brilliantly casted. Riding a Greyhound down to the city. With her fake I.D. and a hell of a little hand basket. . Little game of seesaw, then he came to claim her.
i love you. and you love me. and ain't that the way. it's supposed to be?. . i swing my stick legs 'round at the root. and pile drive each foot into a platform boot.
What dreams cause me. To abandon my pillow each night?. Push away each of them, in fact. Since there always seem to be more than one. . Then wake to aching stiff neck twisted.
Look here I just tattooed. A wedding band. On what looks like to me. My mother's hand. I'm no blushing girl. No innocent dove. It took me a long time to find love.
I will not stand immersed in this ultraviolet curse. I won't let you make a tool of me, I will keep my mind and body free. . Bye Bye minutiae. Of the day to day drama.
if the mattress was a table top. and the bed sheet was a page. we'd be written out. like a couple of question marks. my convex to your concave. and we'd be lying here.
Growing up it was just me and my mom. Against the world. And all my sympathies were with her. When I was a little girl. But now I've seen both my parents.
More and more there is this animal. Looking out through my eyes. At all the traffic on the road to nowhere. At all the shiny stuff around to buy. At all the wires in the air.
you are subtle as a window pane. standing in my view. but i will wait for it to rain. so that i can see you. you call me up at night. when there's no light passing through.