School blues update

School has begun again and so unfortunately I must put off creative writing (and thus blog posting) until December winter break. I tried, and failed, to finish this little dystopian sci-fi story I’d been working on before the semester started… but it will be up here in a few months, along with some other goodies!

Dream

dream landscape fantastic with craggy bluffs and
palefoam sky as wide and high as
the bluegreen lake was wide and deep
and backdrop mountains unrealistic
the bluffs behind us too jagged-perfect

and so much air,
so much air between it all

there we were, four pretty little girls
all in a row, along the cliff’s edge
all in a row, black & cream-striped Edwardian
(petticoats & parasols, hoopskirts & hats)
we were fixing just fixing to jump

spectators & tourists below would take photos
that was the game and that was the plan
our troupe was paid handsomely for such performances
unnecessarily for we’d do it anyway
we were itching just itching to jump

and so and so and so we jumped
into the wide high palefoam sky
behind us mountains unrealistic
below us the wide deep bluegreen lake
her murky depths stretching & swelling

and so much air
so much air
so much air between it all

it felt like flying
it was falling
my petticoat ballooning
a crazy parachuting
we were thrilled by the buffeting of the wind

I was thrilled, but then the dream rippled
my parasol flipped inside-out
and I was falling too far away
outside of the wide deep bluegreen borders
I kept hoping just hoping to wake

and so and so and so I fell
it felt like flying, cameras were flashing
the land growing larger as it came up to meet me
and for all of the itching & thrilling & jumping
the ultimate price to be paid

and there was so much air
so much air
too much air between it all

Idiosyncrasy

The man at the bar
once had an old professor
at State,
he told me
who used two pairs of glasses
reading & distance
would switch back & forth between them
during lectures
and that had always
been the man’s favorite part about him.

On the 28 Outbound

I just kept thinking
about his brains
how scrambled they must be
for his behavior
to manifest so.
Standing above his balding head
I had a vision
a big pile of messy spaghetti
and me,
twirling it with a large fork.

Cat suicide sunset

Our star yawning violently
slathers her worn-out spittle
a burnished orange light over
every tall building
window-laden, mirrorlike
surfaces refract her
sienna’d expectorate
the phlegm of her nightly dying
edges triangular, window casings
rectangular
buildings outlined black-lined thickly
to regulate
the hyper-saturated
meltdown into night
antique photos
monochrome’d
could not be more sienna-violent

There’s me on a sky-high balcony
with window casements
triangular
swimming only with trouble
in the saturated orange
of the evening
story of a black and white cat
his fur a deep apricot
and brass in this soaking
he is walking slowly backwards
towards the balcony’s edge
looking at me with saucer-large eyes
filled to the brim with hot brass light
and he, the cat, goes over backwards
I rush and see him tumbling
easily through the coruscated air
tumbling, falling, far, far down
to hot black, tarry street below
to compensate for the lack of sound
I scream a copper glow
the burnished sky turns rusty
and soon everything gets dark

Sunrise

Great blinding ball
buttery yellow
liquid gold
low, low, balling through rooftops
to crack the curtains
like nuclear fission
years since I’ve
seen this ball of
buttery gold liquid yellow
so immediately after
its painless morning birth
shut-lidded, pillow-stuffed
I do not see at this time
I am a dream at this time
this painless morning birth time
but cocaine-fueled
I am alive at this time
organs sizzling
like nuclear fusion
I see the low, blinding balling
the rooftops aflame
this curtain-cracking ball of
buttery liquid
yellow gold
screaming its birth cry silently
into the pinking sky

Writing update

FYI, for any of you who care (and don’t already know):

I’m doing a near-month-long “writing retreat”…which means I’m chez mes parents until the end of July, attempting to write between 4 and 5 hours every day. After posting the “Vagina dentata” piece, I started working on a much longer project (centered around my Anezka character) that I hope to eventually turn into a novel. This means I won’t be putting anything substantial up on Zokomonium for a while, although I’ll post some shorter poems and things in the meantime, just to keep the blog current.

Also, as a reminder – I would be infinitely grateful to get constructive criticism on anything already published!