Carolyn Gereau Grand Exit Somewhere between I-95 and my dignity I got lost. A moment of disillusion when pride sits there next to you, in a brown paper bag on the bar which you know you should pick up but don't. Regret it in the morning. I only regret the grand exits I never made. I'm always wanting to send the last line as if it's only now ending. How deep did it go? Somewhere past the coffee shake I had for lunch but not past my knees. Claim somewhere in there as yours, but don't claim me. Homeless We make bright homes Bright happy homes with knick-knacks and vases. Fake scentless flowers. We make bright homes like we make bright smiles hiding the cavities, the fillings lurking beneath the lips. "Mom, no cavities" showing our teeth. Stop. Yell Stop. Loud enough to make Everyone stare. Rip off these lips. Let my two cavities Gleam. Unacceptable They say, covering the crest kid's eyes. Anorexic Dream I got three tattoos when I was 16 in places that only a bathing suit reveals. I could have my rebellion and still work for a corporation. I covered the skull on my stomach with a big generic Butterfly. Pushed further back blurred edge shining like a scar from a fall I leapt into. No Nuts Cut off my unicorn horn with a slash that sent me hurling into a bed of tears two days deep. Standing between porridge, pudding and a choosing a banana split, no nuts. Despite knowing Ice cream that way was unappealing to you. To spite knowing what I would go through. Nursery Rhyme Sally sells sea shells What are they for? She's by the sea shore Who's buying? Sea shells in a green Plastic bucket. White broken handle. Free shells on the ground. The sss lisping sound of the brandy bunch girl. Sally's world. What are they for? Little Girl This little girl in my back pocket the action peaking out laughing the response because she'd like the question to go sledding or jump in a pile of leaves. I am Always getting in her way. Cloud How do I tell you Possibly say so clearly the Lines convincing you of my motives. Understand Love 3 years, 5 years him, you You wanted my sigh. me, a cloud. Too late. Short. A day late and a dollared fate, as they say. They have such a way of saying. I have such a way of doing as they say. My private and ridiculous cliché. Honest Cuts I didn't climb your tree and wait. Who invented yours or ours. Let's go back to the first chapter. I've been reading for years but not getting content. Skewed. I found your barely legal porno and what kind of sick fuck gets off on girls who look 13. But really your portrait of normalcy is beautifully convincing a masterpiece even, and the blocks you're on are so neatly placed I'd really hate to knock them down and I would, by staying here for as you put it, my New England lack of hospitality is rude, which could be true, but I'd prefer my honest cuts to your silent deception. To bed Lay this down lay this down abhor me, adore me lay me down to sleep, tonight goodbye, the pain lay me down sweet boy down before you no more you down Appetite It rained so much I could have water skied myself down these streets away from you. My exit, suitcase in hand Arm raised in triumph. When is goodbye real? Not believing in it, I turned back to Catholicism and lost my appetite. It's maroon how lives So heavily connected go on as if one knows which way is best. I never liked the normal colored crayons. Give me the box of 2000 Burnt Umber, Sienna you saw brown. A kaleidoscope only I could see made me lonely made me free. Umbilical cord twirling between fingers. I can smoke 100 cigarettes without a craving. Snicker bars get me fiercely still I am underweight and multi colored. What was 18 becomes 21 as if 18 never. I destroyed photos. 13 worse. Oh, she’s got a quarterback a Cadbury egg and she giggles because her desire to destroy the world is overcome by the need for autumn. Was it forward and not back Turning wrong moment Creates farcical reality Subjective Cruelty Beautiful Sigh without realization done. Critical eye, dissection made good Enough. Not good enough Enough. Sucked me in and spit Me out. Smog. Anorexics should switch with homeless. You shine up like a new Nightmare and I before you must be the condiments that coat the place you wish you weren’t From. Suit so fair, highlighted hair and you woman true, ms. I do, Ms. Phoenix minus ash, ms. Class. |