Every Buddy Leaves

The corner joining east and north?

How do you like the light?

I know it's not the grocery store

But somebody had to buy you

You're the most I could afford

You'll fit in here alright

I'm not as glowing anymore

And you're not one to lie to

I chose you to replace a corpse

I begged to never leave me

Suppose that nature takes it's course

You'd better take it easy

Leaves of every feather wear

And weather under weakness

I'll keep you in my sweetest prayers

Together we can beat this

Pretend it's like you dreamt it'd be

Rest and save your strength

Anticipate a remedy

Surrender to your faith

I'll tend your stems and roots and twigs

And sing to lift your slump

But in the end, there's something bigger

Limiting and glum

Sitting where you sit has sat

A hundred other jokes

The hypoestes didn't laugh

The lilies didn't float

There's flowers in the windowsill

They're next in line to die

You bet your life on it, they will

You're next to see the sky

A breeze is just beyond the wall

It easily could bend you

The trees on the tree lawn are tall

But too deep to defend you

There's peaches in the kitchen

For eating with regret

I screamed each time I bit them

Believe me, I'm upset

Every seed's a precious child

Every weed's a friend

Those are people in the compost pile

With beetles in their heads

I drove them to the hospital

Then wheeled them out back

I'll grow whatever's possible

And seal it in a sack

Perhaps you'll be a miracle

A magic that withstands

Alas, but if my fears unfurl

The sap is on my hands

There's bandages for patching up

And syrup for the pain

It all goes down the hatch, my love

It's perfectly humane

There's dirt stains on the carpet

The furnace peels the paint

The curtains never part

But the service here is great

A room for soiled clothing

And scolding healing tubs

With slews of doily throw things

Adhering to the rust

I trust it suits your fickle fancy

The corner and used throne?

You must excuse my little rant, please

Enjoy your brand new home!

Letters in the Snow (a celebratory babble)

  When I think about my birthday, I sweat. I perspire easily. I get nervous a lot. I'm doing it right now. It's not a big deal. My birthday's a big deal, but getting nervous, not so much. Shit happens. I'd have rather have an anxiety problem than a shit problem. 

  It's not a problem. I've been this way as far back as I can remember. I know no other way to live. When I was very young, I assumed that everyone else felt the same way. Anxiety is a feeling, and everyone has all the feelings. I was a sensitive kid. I cried more easily than my siblings, and that's normal for the youngest child, so I came to think of my anxiety in the same way. And that pretty much concludes that story. 

  I'm turning thirty two! It gives me a lot to think about. Like, the kind of person I've become, and what I'm going to wear. I dress flashily. Not because of my unusual accessories, but because when I shop for clothes I can't help but want what catches my eye, which is usually along the lines of a polka dot skirt. It's better that way. When I wear pants, and have to cover my entire body, I can come off as a frightened, mentally ill person. But, in a cute skirt and stockings, I appear more like a character. People don't wonder whether or not to make eye contact, and I can exchange smiles with everyone I pass. 

  I used to dress normal. I went through a goth phase that was all about baggy pants and mime makeup. This was before clown rapping, when face painting was still cool. I wore real-girl makeup sometimes, but it made less of a statement. Then, for whatever reason, when I was about twenty, I would look in the mirror before and after makeup, and no matter how I applied it, from then on out, the after was less attractive. Now all I do is shower. That's trouble enough at my age. 

  I can't believe it's June already! Time flies, and babies cry. I made that up just now. I write stuff sometimes. I prefer fiction and rhyming, but to my disappointment, I'm talking about myself. I'm not a baby, you're a baby. Being a baby was hard, I'm glad it's over with. 

  I don't keep a diary because I'm healthier without it, and nobody would read it anyway. Years and years ago, when I did keep a diary, I was super messed up in the head. All it did was promote suicide. It's tough to be a teen. I've experienced an emotional issue or two as an adult as well, but I get a little better at it each time. It's not a problem. I've never received help for it. There's nothing amazing about being able to handle my own feewings, or so I thought. Things are different now, everybody's a hero. 

  I can help an old lady with her bags without telling anyone about it. It's called discipline. Kids these days.. 

  Congratulations, you're a human being. I'm thirty two! I win. I hope I don't die, that would ruin it. 

  It's been a good year. Every year is greater than the last. I'm lucky that way. Women can vote now. Even animals have rights. I'm excited to see what will happen next. 

  Excitement and anxiety are the same thing. I'm only capable of interpreting them differently when gifts are involved. I need a new shirt. 

  I hope that I get one. I hope that everything is always good, even when it's bad. That would be the best, I think. That might be what I'll wish for. Or dare I ask for both?  

  It's my birthday!!

  

Birds and The Devil

Birds and the devil can do what they want

Ease for your travel, and seeds on the lawn for you

Worms in the kettle, and wax on the windowsill 

Now till November, I'll listen and whistle

Warm weathered things sleep in the lilacs

The firefly blinks for the creatures to find him

Wake before dawn, and we'll sing of our dreaming

Bait on the awning, and bakery steaming 

Taste the grain in the atmosphere

Do you remember I waited last year?

Nectar and biscuits are fragrant and free

Succor and cinnamon sway from the apple tree

Cradle my head in your musical modesty

Wait for the devil to do what he wants

Lay your eggs on the balcony

Stretch out your legs and we'll wait as a family

May your cage be the galaxy

Pastries and crackers arranged at your beak 

Now until winter I'll always be whistling

Lifting the window, and counting the stars again

Call to my ears from the mouths of the pillowy

Lavender fields if you follow your heart

May thaws sesame waterfalls

Do you remember the bread that I brought for you? 

Play from your breath a celestial song to me

Wait for the devil to do what he wants

(original poem with imaginary copyright)