Unfortunately
She wasn't in
class today, gone.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Oh Dear Me
Oh Dear Me
I can't help
but feel guilty.
After all, it was
my fault. At home
we struggle, as they say,
"To make ends meet."
I beat myself
up over it.
No one's to blame
but me. A loser
doesn't even begin...
I can't help
but feel guilty.
After all, it was
my fault. At home
we struggle, as they say,
"To make ends meet."
I beat myself
up over it.
No one's to blame
but me. A loser
doesn't even begin...
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Major English Literature II 2
Major English Literature II 2
Well, well, well.
You've read
Melville & both
the Brownings!
Oh, oh, oh.
And you quote
Oscar Wilde yourself!
You've been everywhere?
My, my, my.
Paris, Florence, museums!
and yet you talk like a valley
girl, you don't know
what a scrivener is?
you cheer the Duke
of Ferrera? Unfortunately,
either the curtains go
or Oscar Wilde. You cling
to your decor.
The professor, a doctor
no less, says "Frankly,
you seem a bitch."
Well, well, well.
You've read
Melville & both
the Brownings!
Oh, oh, oh.
And you quote
Oscar Wilde yourself!
You've been everywhere?
My, my, my.
Paris, Florence, museums!
and yet you talk like a valley
girl, you don't know
what a scrivener is?
you cheer the Duke
of Ferrera? Unfortunately,
either the curtains go
or Oscar Wilde. You cling
to your decor.
The professor, a doctor
no less, says "Frankly,
you seem a bitch."
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
English 355
English 355
They criticize Chekov
and Joyce Carol Oates,
say their language
is inaccessible, boring,
pointless. My teacher
doesn't persuade.
They claim understanding,
deep understanding.
Profound understanding.
The room fills
with fog, they continue
talking. Chekov and Oates.
Even the one couldn't
empathize, the other
can't match the bleakness.
I persuade myself:
there's nothing more,
they just seem bitches.
They criticize Chekov
and Joyce Carol Oates,
say their language
is inaccessible, boring,
pointless. My teacher
doesn't persuade.
They claim understanding,
deep understanding.
Profound understanding.
The room fills
with fog, they continue
talking. Chekov and Oates.
Even the one couldn't
empathize, the other
can't match the bleakness.
I persuade myself:
there's nothing more,
they just seem bitches.
Seven Set
Seven Set
Sometimes I feel
like I'm the only one
walking upstairs.
Rows of feet stomp down
each step, a wall
pushing me towards the rail.
I muffle their voices
with unplugged headphones,
stay to the right with my head
down. I reach the top
floor and get stuck
holding the door for those
voiceless, faceless shoes.
I don't bother
with the stairs
or the elevator
on the way down.
Sometimes I feel
like I'm the only one
walking upstairs.
Rows of feet stomp down
each step, a wall
pushing me towards the rail.
I muffle their voices
with unplugged headphones,
stay to the right with my head
down. I reach the top
floor and get stuck
holding the door for those
voiceless, faceless shoes.
I don't bother
with the stairs
or the elevator
on the way down.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Ars Poetica
Ars Poetica
I am Zachary Harris
I am white
I am a slave to my education
I am whipped by grades
I am lynched by teachers
I am Zachary Harris
I am a slow runner
I am duck footed
I am pigeon footed
I am weighed by scales
I am Zachary Harris
I am huge kings fan
I am royalty
I am your majesty
I AM ZOD! KNEEL BEFORE ME!
I am Zachary Harris
I am not a musician
I am Ray Charles
I am tone deaf
I am Helen Keller
I am Kurt Cobain
I am Zachary Harris
I am failing English
…go figure.
I am Zachary Harris
I am a poet!
I am superior
I am your teacher
I am grading your poem
I am giving you an F
I am giving myself a B.
I am Zachary Harris
I am white
I am a slave to my education
I am whipped by grades
I am lynched by teachers
I am Zachary Harris
I am a slow runner
I am duck footed
I am pigeon footed
I am weighed by scales
I am Zachary Harris
I am huge kings fan
I am royalty
I am your majesty
I AM ZOD! KNEEL BEFORE ME!
I am Zachary Harris
I am not a musician
I am Ray Charles
I am tone deaf
I am Helen Keller
I am Kurt Cobain
I am Zachary Harris
I am failing English
…go figure.
I am Zachary Harris
I am a poet!
I am superior
I am your teacher
I am grading your poem
I am giving you an F
I am giving myself a B.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
out of a hundred
out of a hundred
she talks like high
school students, failing
to break for air. brushed
on cheeks. gray blue
light glows on
her face. monotone,
usual, techno-slave.
she sounds like blurred
running zebras
look. Sometimes
you pervert
lost lifestyles,
at least you’re not
just another red
blood cell. you're white
as puss. I can't get
enough.
she talks like high
school students, failing
to break for air. brushed
on cheeks. gray blue
light glows on
her face. monotone,
usual, techno-slave.
she sounds like blurred
running zebras
look. Sometimes
you pervert
lost lifestyles,
at least you’re not
just another red
blood cell. you're white
as puss. I can't get
enough.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Ex
Ex
You say you wouldn't date an ex-
pornstar because of their loose past.
You don't want other guys watching
your girl. You don't like
the pleasure they get from her. Fake
sense of ownership, real jealousy.
Maybe a reformed ex-pornstar
wouldn't want to date you. They're not
that desperate. You are stuck with
the ones left on the computer.
You say you wouldn't date an ex-
pornstar because of their loose past.
You don't want other guys watching
your girl. You don't like
the pleasure they get from her. Fake
sense of ownership, real jealousy.
Maybe a reformed ex-pornstar
wouldn't want to date you. They're not
that desperate. You are stuck with
the ones left on the computer.
on my knees
on my knees
i havent prayed
in half a year
Hell be waiting
for me at home
though. silent,
i fold
small hands
together. wait,
empty of words,
for thoughts to spill,
overwhelm us.
the cross stops
my mouth.
Amen
i havent prayed
in half a year
Hell be waiting
for me at home
though. silent,
i fold
small hands
together. wait,
empty of words,
for thoughts to spill,
overwhelm us.
the cross stops
my mouth.
Amen
Friday, February 17, 2012
leopard print reflection
leopard print reflection
shoes & coat have spots.
her chin wrinkles when she talks.
her left eye slightly droops
when she smiles. there's a slight gap
between her teeth. her s's
are sibilant. her tattoos,
discolored, uneven. I
notice her large, bony
ankles and shins.
her large nails, broken,
chipped. hair dyed
to hide split ends. I run
my fingers through her
curls, match the asymmetry
on our face.
shoes & coat have spots.
her chin wrinkles when she talks.
her left eye slightly droops
when she smiles. there's a slight gap
between her teeth. her s's
are sibilant. her tattoos,
discolored, uneven. I
notice her large, bony
ankles and shins.
her large nails, broken,
chipped. hair dyed
to hide split ends. I run
my fingers through her
curls, match the asymmetry
on our face.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Enough
Enough
My mom tells me to put out
plates for our guest. Places
everyone! I know --- isn't there,
but I set their plate anyway.
The bell rings to a tune:
Shave & a haircut...
--- might have answered.
We're having pork-chops
and applesauce, but we're not
The Brady Bunch. Mom dies
laughing at her guest. I
see eyeliner covering both
their eyes. Seeing my meal,
my mom quietly yells
You haven't even eaten
two bits!
--- laughs next to me.
We're sent to our room.
--- tells me it was easy
enough. --- tells me
I had it once,
but I've lost it.
My mom tells me to put out
plates for our guest. Places
everyone! I know --- isn't there,
but I set their plate anyway.
The bell rings to a tune:
Shave & a haircut...
--- might have answered.
We're having pork-chops
and applesauce, but we're not
The Brady Bunch. Mom dies
laughing at her guest. I
see eyeliner covering both
their eyes. Seeing my meal,
my mom quietly yells
You haven't even eaten
two bits!
--- laughs next to me.
We're sent to our room.
--- tells me it was easy
enough. --- tells me
I had it once,
but I've lost it.
Ode to the Genuine
Ode to the Genuine
she's lost her shock
value. the clothes
she wears, nothing
new. white shirt, jeans,
low cut converse
and a jacket
the same everyday.
i wonder how
often she dyes
her hair. flower
changes from white
in the middle
to black petals.
but finally
i saw her mouth
stretch across her
face. worn out
brand? new.
she's lost her shock
value. the clothes
she wears, nothing
new. white shirt, jeans,
low cut converse
and a jacket
the same everyday.
i wonder how
often she dyes
her hair. flower
changes from white
in the middle
to black petals.
but finally
i saw her mouth
stretch across her
face. worn out
brand? new.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Tint
Tint
he wrote in
pencil. nothing's
permanent
for him. i
used pens.
he only gave
he wrote in
pencil. nothing's
permanent
for him. i
used pens.
he only gave
me yes or
no answers.
i only took
them from him
with my eyes.
Restaurant
Restaurant
Lesbians always sit in the corner
tables where I work.
It's a phenomenon I don't understand.
Families with children
gravitate towards the middle section.
The elderly don't care.
Neither do parties of teenagers.
Gay males sit against
the windows, but not in the corners.
Straight males don't like
booths secluded or small. Large parties
want everyone to see,
like straight guys. We sing
a birthday song for those who ask for it.
I only sing for the corners
and the windows. They are the ones
who ask for people.
The others sing for the cake and ask
for doggy bags.
Lesbians always sit in the corner
tables where I work.
It's a phenomenon I don't understand.
Families with children
gravitate towards the middle section.
The elderly don't care.
Neither do parties of teenagers.
Gay males sit against
the windows, but not in the corners.
Straight males don't like
booths secluded or small. Large parties
want everyone to see,
like straight guys. We sing
a birthday song for those who ask for it.
I only sing for the corners
and the windows. They are the ones
who ask for people.
The others sing for the cake and ask
for doggy bags.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Baby
Baby
her lips were as red
as her hair. her brows
furrowed. valleys dug into
her forehead. caked in
blemish-cover. My eyes
seek her realities.
her jeans were rolled
up her shins, darkened
legs unshaved. suddenly,
she looked like lost
icons. her makeup cracked.
underneath, her blemishes
radiated.
her lips were as red
as her hair. her brows
furrowed. valleys dug into
her forehead. caked in
blemish-cover. My eyes
seek her realities.
her jeans were rolled
up her shins, darkened
legs unshaved. suddenly,
she looked like lost
icons. her makeup cracked.
underneath, her blemishes
radiated.
The Little Mermaid
The Little Mermaid
She seemed to lust
for an age of innocence,
but she was less
Ariel and more Betty
with black and red
hair. A mix of urban and broad-
way. Over her head,
a fluorescent halo.
She seemed to lust
for an age of innocence,
but she was less
Ariel and more Betty
with black and red
hair. A mix of urban and broad-
way. Over her head,
a fluorescent halo.
un tight lol Ed
un tight lol Ed
"can u help me? my bro wont
get over his ex. genius
me said i know how he feels. now
hes buggin me" "Sure
no prob" " u r
the best travis. ty"
"can u help me? my bro wont
get over his ex. genius
me said i know how he feels. now
hes buggin me" "Sure
no prob" " u r
the best travis. ty"
Friday, February 3, 2012
Major English Literature II
Major English Literature II
of Darkness, thinking
she's better than Joseph Conrad.
Her voice speaks into empty space,
fills a balloon that no one sees
or cares about. She hates Wordsworth
and Blake. Rivals one's ego
and mirrors the others cynicism.
Simply, she looks a bitch.
For Morale
For Morale
She stepped out
of a 1950s pin-
up girl poster
She wore different
colored flowers each day
in her tomato-red waves
But her face was drawn
on Not like the posters
painted Now out of print.
