Manuscript.

Here's my graduate school entrance manuscript. It's comprised of several poems. Maybe you want to take these one two at a time, then come back and read some more later. Or maybe you don't want to read any of them at all. Regardless, here they are.

Apples and Oranges

If apples were oranges
then you'd be easier to peel
One hard dig at the top
and your skin would slip off
underneath my pale fingers

I could separate you into sections
and underneath another layer of milky skin
would be tiny little citrus beads
that make you sweet or sour
or however it is you feel like tasting
(like treating me)
today

But you're still an apple
and I'm afraid
of coming at you
with a knife


Blind Faith

I fell in love with the stubble on his face.
He was not smooth, not perfect;
just as I am not perfect.

I can tell how many drinks he's had
by the whiskey on his breath
and the creaks of the floor beneath him.

He made a joke once that he could have
another woman in the room
and I'd never know.

I laughed it off and so did he
as we rolled in bed as feathers from the pillows
whispered to my earlobes.

He wakes me at night
when the electricity goes out.
In the darkness, we are even.

We bring our bodies close in true night,
fingertips feather-grazing skin;
he says he is a pineapple but I am a peach.

But the inside of his mouth is the real fruit,
slippery and wet as the soap in the shower.
Night after night, he cleanses me.

Last night, when I came home
I could smell rose and sandalwood and ylang-ylang
the combination is pleasant but unfamiliar.

I slip into bed and contemplate the scent's origin aloud
he says he has been burning incense
but there is not even a hint of char in the air.


Dear Dandelion

Oh, I should have seen it coming
(and I probably did)
But I'm a stubborn old
stub-toed mule

No, you did not push me,
kicking and screaming,
But instead I worked my way in
with clear and deliberate intention

We memorized every move
before we even played the game
I saw us falling apart
before we were even put together

But still I just wanna
sleep under your chin
keep your face close to mine
memorize every inch of you skin
every stitch of your soul
every electric pathway in your mind

You were the prettiest dandelion
in the field, in the world's yard,
and I just wanted to pick you
before you blew away.


Dueling Perspectives -- A work in two parts

The Usual Side of the Coin (Part I)

I wish I'd kept you pressed
in the pages of a book
Preserved as you were
for no one else to look at
but me.

I tried to drown
but the water, it was much too shallow
I heard the sounds
but never thought
they wouldn't last
until tomorrow

Oh, poor me
pour me out
A libation to
all the deaths your lips did make
A libation to
all the lives your lips did take


The Opposite Side of the Coin (Part II)

I know I told you I'd never love another
But he stole your cinnamon eyes
Painted his face into a disguise
Tricked me another time

It happens to us all, they say
It happens to us all,
but that won't make this guilt go away.

He kissed like he knew your voice
and took my hand off my heart for once
for just this one time

We danced like we didn't have a choice
Listened to each other
and never once heard the outside noise
of your fists, pounding on the glass


Grey Crayons

When I started kindergarten
Mommy told me we could keep it a secret
She read the labels out loud
Red. Green. Blue. Yellow.
“You won’t get made fun of, this way.”

Last night, sister got mad
I accidentally ripped out
Her doll’s hair
Blonde strings on the floor
At least, I think they were blonde
Someone once told me
That Barbies are always blonde

This morning, I walked in, toting my plastic box
Full of crayons and their labels
Clank, clunk,
Cornflower blue slamming into electric orange and whatever other silly names
This box holds

Teacher handed out papers
Blank rainbows
Desperate to be filled in by grubby child hands
But when I open my box
There is no paper description
Wrapped around these pieces of wax
The words burnt orange and goldenrod sit tattered in my sister’s backpack
Vengeance for the doll hair
And all I can think is
“This is the worst kind of punishment”
as my rainbow remains white
and I stare into a box
of muted greys.


Kill the Lights

Kill the lights; kill all of your insides now
I can feel my strength slipping in your hand
Don't you question me, don't ask why or how

Oh, pick me up, bring me down, take a bow
My heart is a stone skipping in the sand
Kill the lights; kill all of your insides now

Out of your arms, ugly as an old sow
But in your blue eyes, it is all so grand
Don't you question me, don't ask why or how

My body is a field and you are the plow
Blood pulsing so fast it is hard to stand
Kill the lights; kill all of your insides now

Do not keep her, do not recite that vow
I know that this is not what you had planned
Don't you question me, don't ask why or how

Back to back and all I can say is, Now
How much longer till you understand?
Kill the lights; kill all of your insides now
Don't you question me, don't ask why or how


nevermind.

The way he walks
is like a cool thunderstorm.

He eats biscuit and
sausage gravy every morning
sips coffee in the corner booth
no cream, no sugar.

Most days, he talks at me
not to me
but when he does lock his gaze
into my eyes,
I fever a little.

But soon he gets back to work
hammering at mirrors
spitting out nails,
whatever ordinary heroes do.

I remember --
I drink my tea with honey,
and on Sundays,
I wake at 10, not 6.
Nevermind...I say.


No Such Thing

Doctor man told me to get some sleep
But when I close my eyes
I find no relief
Just fake ghosts chasing me
Middle aged women, crying
Boys with crooked teeth
Bridges with no water left underneath.

Novocaine might numb
But the words will always be stuck in my gums
(They echoed "love, love, love")

I learned long ago
To separate touch of hand
from touch of heart
But I'm afraid I'll never be able to put them together again
now that they are so firmly ripped apart.
[Maybe there is no such thing as a broken heart]


Photograph

Each moment is a photograph
my head is full of snaps and camera flashes

and you,
you are the crisp, cool lines
up front, up close
teeth, shining white
face, centered and bright

But in these photos I am
standing in the background
unable to push
into your forefront.

In every moment I am
a blur,
a faint shadow,
cropped into the edges
I barely make it onto the page.

But I think, maybe
in this last shot,
this photo stinging in my mind,
your left hand, it falls out of focus
blends into my skin, my neck


Rather Toke Alone

I can't believe we walked hand in hand
sipped and slipped and spent days being spent
kissed and didn't mean it
kissed but only sometimes meant it
talked and almost always felt it

Skin stretched over bones
voices spilled into phones
and the night drones and drones
thank god (or whoever) we're together
thank god (or whoever) we're not alone

realize I'm not holding on to this
realize I'm barely remembering it
but when I get your messages late at night
or see you walking by
it comes back like light, like lightning

I'm silly for giving into it
I'm silly for feeling it
I'm silly for getting into it
I'm almost strong enough to forget it.

I just don't really get it
Why you did all those things
Said all those words
Whatever they mean

Kiss off, kiss out
break off, break out
we'd stab shank shake
and take take take
toke toke toke

You're just a cloud
a cloud of smoke
I'd rather toke alone.


Repetition of Similar Times

I will keep your name
hidden, like a secret, in my palm
tattooed on the in-between lines

Some nights life is not as simple
as a numbered list
of pros and cons.

But with what yardstick can I measure
your arms
and all the weight
they held?

For fourteen nights, you held me inside
as I forgot to breathe, overlooked speech, lost focus
and my eyes rested heavy on your shoes
and for once
they did not
see through to the floor.

But you reached for the door
like so many before
like everyone else before
you


Still Incomplete

Well if I've seen it once
I've seen it one million times
In the back of my head,
In the front of my mind.

Your body shakes
and shivers into mine,
but you never fully unwind.

In the river, there, we made our beds
and tried our best
to forget the books we'd read.
"You think too much,"
they'd always said.

Our bodies melted
like sugar into tea
you into me.
We were finally combined
but still incomplete.

Oh, you're the broken chord
in my favorite song
but I still sing along
(Please don't string me on for long)

In the morning, we make our peace
But by our day's second AM
We're fighting like cats and dogs
instead of counting sheep
(We haven't slept for weeks)


The story I don't want to tell

I still remember the way you were
when your fingers were chubby and
you had never been close to a woman.

I still remember how your eyes looked
when they were just a little bit dulled
but had not quite yet turned into glass.

I still remember the red of your cheeks
after a hazy and slow vodka afternoon
and your knees gave out on the lawn.

But then we spent a year or more apart
memorized ash grey and powder white,
as your body grew more thin, weak, pale.

The first night of summer, we met again
your bones rattled into my same lawn,
I flinched at the hollow mass before me.

We both knew I could never turn away
from a broken bird or desperate child,
You knew I'd be holding you for a while.

Our branches grew, rapidly intertwined
we slept never and wasted away together,
everyone knew what we would not say.

On a trip across state our bodies locked
just before you went your way and I mine,
you called me that Sunday at three A.M.

In the morning we drove back and you
had rope burn around your skinny neck,
I didn't say a word; I just let you tell it.

We kept a spare blanket in your old car
and spent a dozen nights in the cemetery,
not once sleeping or looking at the stars.

You told me every secret, every night
my eyes were fixed on your rusty face,
your eyes were planted on the ground.

I would buy you smoke and firewater
hold your hand through the withdrawal,
as you shook like fall's last browned leaf.

And this went on and on, around and around
through the accusing glares and sister stares,
you began to fidget and twitch in my arms.

Eleven nights after the car was repossessed
you slept in a bed with my flesh and blood,
But it was not my flesh; it was not my blood.

It took me a few days to choke down the truth
to let myself believe you'd sinned against me,
but on Sunday, when she left town, I knew.

I slapped your face, made it as red as my words
cursed you in the street, in my house, my room,
where you tried to lay next to me one last time.

Your arms wrapped around my sinking body
for a fleeting moment, it felt the best it ever had,
you holding me, not the other way around, for once.

But you said nothing, had no apologies or regret
were confused by my anger, my quivering body,
in that moment, I finally saw the monster in you.

And in a split second, my fists flew and struck
you were a dried out junkie, a shadow of a man,
it did not take me long to push you out the door.

I saw you a last week; even thinner than before
and the only spots of color left in your face
were the sallow, dark circles under your eyes.

You told my best friend, if you had it to do over
you'd love me and keep me and let me fix you,
but I am no longer in the business of repairs.


The Day After High School (when Brian and Tim weren't friends anymore)

No more football games in your back yard
No pickup lines loosely scribbled in the backs of Christmas cards
But I guess you never liked that part
"What if mother sees?"
you'd say
But it never really mattered to me
I quickly got tired of hiding.

The wildflowers in your own true heart
The other boys could never tell us apart
Because I was you and you
were me.
I was you and and you
were me.

No more fake prom dates with too much hair gel
No more awkward school yard games of show and tell
"Show me yours and I'll show you mine,"
the girls would say
But it never mattered much to me
(they had nothing I wanted to see)

No more camping trips and 3day weekends
Telling everyone we're sharing a tent
because
"we're best friends,"
and we we were.
we were so much more.

I guess you're still afraid of the truth
I guess you are going to cut
me
loose
But you're really going to be the one
to lose.

I'll find another boy, more
blonde more,
tall
But you'll never get another me
No one else will know to
crack that shell

I just pray you don't end up
married
with some fake kids and fake wife
an entire fake family

I hope ten years from now when the clock strikes
three
(AM)
you're not crying, in the living room,
calling me.


----------


So, what do you think? Did they make you laugh? Did they make you cry? Was it the same old story? Was it something new? Did you hope the one was about you? Did you pray that none of them were?