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.

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.

Tint

Tint

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.

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.

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.

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"

Major English Literature II

Major English Literature II

I overheard that she doesn't like Heart

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.

Mississippi

Mississippi

When the boats were still

on streets, the cars

in trees, the houses

roofless, we slept

on Bucky Sanders' trampoline.

I told him I lost my sleeping

bag before Lindsay Windemere

could say she lost her pajamas.

I felt his legs through

the fabric of his pants. Thin,

muscular. His face began to tighten.

Lindsay, somewhere on the edge

of the trampoline, huffed.

In the dark, he grew

closer. I heard him

groan. Suddenly, I felt wet

soak through his pants, into mine.

It stank of urine.

When the sun allowed,

we all washed

the clothes and bags

in the water up his driveway.

Lindsay laughed. From a distance,

I heard Mrs. Sanders, "That's just

being American."