WHERE I’M FROM

Where I live:

   A wide forest stretches behind my house

   It brims with memories of nature walks past

I remember -

   Tumbling down green hills 

   Again and Again

   Smiling

  Shadows gathering on the ground

  Trees clustered together, standing apart

  A mysterious new world

Where I live:

   Pink bathroom

   The empty chair next to the sink 

   A light glows through the window 

         like a ghost

I remember -

   Cardboard Cat with a smile 

   Made out of glitter and gems

   My hands sticky placing her eyes

Now I remember -

    A Bear on the Bathroom door

    Dirty 

    Kind

    Made of cardboard

Where I live:

   Old crayon drawings

     still line the walls

I don’t object though

I remember -  

   A beach made of glitter and plastic gems

   Putting on the gems

    Gluing on the net

Where I live:

    The park two blocks from my house

    Surrounded by trees and grass

    Two little structures for playing

I remember -

    Going down the yellow slide

     Graffiti sprayed on the pipes and the wall

     Swinging on the small black swing

     The crunch of fall leaves

Where I live:

   There’s a small museum nearby

   A little bit dark and Gothic

    A lot Victorian

I remember -

   Black narrow spiral staircase

   Dinosaur bones 

   Dinosaur skulls

   In rows of glass cases

I remember -

    A spiral staircase

    My heart pounding

       on the narrow, creaking steps

       with gaps I could peek through

     My mom smiling as I followed her down

All these things are

Still a part of where I live

   The taste

   And feeling

Only things that seemed so big -

   Like trees towering over me

   Sheltering me

   With dark crevices 

    Waiting to be explored -

Now seem so small

Still, they cannot be uprooted

I hold onto the memories of crafts

  And woods

  And stories

They become my wings

So I can fly.

BARBIE’S LAST DANCE

Shuffled out to play

Barbie and her plastic friends

Give their last performance today

Barbie stars as Barbarella

In the children’s latest show 

She begins a tarantella

Her clothes are torn off by pudgy hands

As sunlight streams across

A pale bedroom wall in golden bands

Plastic bodies clink together

Closed mouths kiss and come apart 

Torsos merge for one moment in forever

A pageant? a dance? a show?

The foggy premise of this performance

Is not for everyone to know

INSOMNIA

  The sun,

   A giant eye,

   Reflected in its giant pupil

It shuts and opens

My eyes burn,

  Staring at the ceiling

  Fleshy faint pink

  The roof of a mouth

My white bed

  A disfigured molar

  Burrowed away in the corner 

  Stabbing the cheek

Every night I am eaten

  Never fully chewed

  Or swallowed

  Or digested

Held together by  . . . what?

The other half of my brain waits on my bed

  Flailing around

  Longing to be whole again

Bloodshot eyes

Throbbing temple

Aching bones

Every inch of my body

Yearns for sleep

My head cries out to my eyes

My eyes scream at my joints

My joints wail to my brain

Words and Sense go up in flames as

Thoughts and memories are burnt up

By a fire in my brain

My mind is awake

Always walking never stopping

Going faster and faster as it loses its grip

Tumbling down down

Blurring and losing shape

Accelerating and burning up

No sleep to steady it

As it turns to ash.