house-sitting

for all this red wine
i'm quite sure i don't have the energy.
these two orange cats follow me everywhere.
i've wanted certain nice things before.
i wondered how out of touch,
how impaired my lines of judgment truly are.
24 little dogs lined up along our sidewalk.
it's chalk these days,
chalky medicine and hair weaves.
when you left, i whimpered,
wondered again when the mail would come.
it's like when you find me later i'm
hopelessly hammered and stammering on
about the climax, the way i hit you
and you cried and cried
from misappropriated pain. it's like
when i call out, you answer
just to see if i'm really
addressing someone here.

melinda, melinda

melinda was a pink-peach version of her older sister who was light, light yellow.

melinda thought often about scabs, light fixtures, being late. she was late most of the time and when she wasn't late, she was unprepared.

melinda ate unscrupulous amounts of yogurt and practiced the shimmy for three minutes every day in front of a full-length mirror.

melinda does very little for a living.

melinda sometimes purposely cuts her hands on sharp objects in the presence of her friends, pretending it was an accident. she's used nail files and open pop cans in the past.

melinda enjoys physical activity, is quite good at it, but she refrains from formally involving herself in anything. she accidentally has sex, she accidentally starts doing gymnastics.

at age ten melinda contracted a virus called purple-pink fever. purple-pink fever has several symptoms, most of which are latent. at age nineteen melinda started having seizures, in public, on purpose. melinda takes fake medication for her seizures; she puts smarties in old medicine containers with worn down labels. she pops the top of an orange cylinder whenever it seems most inappropriate.

last thursday melinda told her mother she was going to work through a break-up by taking acid in the park which was silly because acid causes brain bleeding and melinda isn't interested in men.

melinda thinks the sound of water is intoxicating.

melinda "holds it" when she doesn't have to.

melinda gets nauseated in shopping malls but really enjoys shopping. she once bought a dress she hoped would get her fired.

melinda hates the way the skin on her back feels when she wakes up in the morning.

nothing, honey

i have two big cameras,
they clunk against my back.
the pictures are grainy
and sometimes they turn out backwards.
i've wanted to rip photos in half before
which is often difficult
because of the paper.
then i remember, i'm not from here.
in the courtyard, outside my window,
there are bricks, there are other buildings,
people move to and from them and around
in them. there is a broken water supply.
it's cold.