Monday, April 06, 2015

when the fire drills stopped

monday


the mellinial need for revenge, let's see how many
bodies we can take. it's fungible static writ
in the grave yard or mass grave, come to think of it
the whole world's a mass grave we momentarily 
crawl out of. there's a strange whine in the evening sky
sounds like armeggeddon. the radio's playing revelation's 
seven great hits and the horsemen are taking all bets
at the racetrack.  i 've been in a snarl since
everything went right this norning and i don't have 
no one to blame it on but me. i'm the one said listen let your life
be a friction in the machine, no wait that was some poet
who actually went to jail for mind crimes in old times
and it's like this guy spider he's got a rap on him
for pandering or something like that and he won't take
the plea which includes registering as a sex offender he won't
set his name down as a pedophile because he did not do  nothing
with anyone for anything so as it stands right now all the da got
is conJECTURE and i wish i'd get on his jury but i can't cuz i know him
so spider's packin all his stuff up, get ready cuz what they do
with guys with like him , unless justice somehow goes horribly sane
for a moment, is lock them away with no shred of evidence
so he's just being prepared. i tell it it's really sad what they done
with our fifth amendment and he says in this case it's the third
cuz it was entrapment sure and simple, while i was trying to 
entrap them , and who says i don't have as much a right to catch
them sickos as the cops, how the cops going to be everywhere
these sleze dogs go, i gotta baby girl myself, i gotta protect her
take these sick baby fuckers off the street and now they turned it 
round  and i'm the solicitory perpatrator i'm the one trying to sell
my baby to the muslims or some sick shit! 
 spider slams his fist into the thin panelling
of the trailor, adds a star to the constellation he's making
as the case drags on and on. he gave his daughter's furniture
to the woman down the street with a five year old because
his ex didn't have to let her over for visitation with this charge
looming.  i ask when was the last time he saw her and his eyes
crumble into  valleys. i look away. still it feels like
like liquefaction where concrete slips it's rigidity.
years, he wispers. years and years
he slides down , just kind of slips into 
the middle of his packing, mountainous 
and incomplete hugging his knees
making the sound of an emergency warning signal
just before the tornado hits.












saturday


she threaded a bobbin,  shaved
her scissors up a length a cloth  for easter magic.
a born seamstress,  she could have
been a designer  sewing was her art and
she was good at it. she made polyester leisure suits
for my dad that looked tailored. because they were.
our  dresses were sewn in the afternoons
while we  were at school. it is my
eternal shame that i begged for the 3 for 9 dollar dime store
dresses. moma why can't we have sears
i whined from the chair where i stood as she
measured the hem.



one easter she made us matching  frocks
of different colors. somehow we were never measured
in the finished product.  on easter morning mom called
look girls! look what the easter bunny left! we ran in
 and saw 3  dresses on plastic hangers with price tags
hanging off them laid out on the sofa,
next to the easter baskets .
they were smart dresses, a-lined
 like jackie o.
we carried store bought purses
and wore white patent leather shoes
 and white bonnets . you girls
are getting so big everyone said, and we shyly
twisted in our mod clothes, ready for the photo shoot
in gramma's rose garden in the house across
the street from the first baptist church.  mrs shaw
and mama talked  in the sun under their big hats.  mrs shaw
said, law leona, you sure do have a way with the needle.
those dresses are adorable! my ears perked up
at that, i had to set her right. excuse me mrs. shaw
but momma didn't make these dresses. look! the tag's
from sears, and she dutifully looked at the tag sewn
onto the collar. yes, indeed. it says sears right here, she
smiled, seventeen months she said to momma. they are
simply lovely, mrs shaw insisted. i wish i had found some
just like it.  i got so lucky, mama said, they had these
pretty lacey things for my rainbow girls. run along lynze
grandpa's ready to snap




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