I keep sweepin' this floor
washin' clothes, dishes, babies
trying to clean up this mess
you made of me, my family.
Cry on that rebel
chocolate cake we got
because why the hell not
we're broke anyway
four dollars
same as four million
Selling eggs, sperm, smiles
Noodles and tomato sauce
to stop feeling hungry
even though I'm sick from it
spending the night
flushing undigested noodles,
expensive water
and all of my crazy pills
Stabbing myself in the ear
hoping I won't hear myself think

Eyes like peaches
Swollen heavy
On the tree
My only movement
The rocking of my heartbeat
Outing me
I wanted to be still
So maybe earth
Would pass me by
She knows though
I am alive
Back in fifteen minutes
Atlas lied
I always help
But the universe
Fails to recognize
And one day
My veins
Will finally dry
No good neighbor
Will spy
My face in a ditch
For all the dirt
Caked by tears
I am myself
The ditch
I will finally rest
In death
I will bleed no more
In death
I almost pray
To God
If it is here
That we have
No afterlife

Now this is the story
All about how
My life got flipped-
Turned upside down
I'd like to take a minute... See More
Just sit right there
I'll tell you how I became
Princess though the cat
Was first heir.

In Blacksburg, Virginia
With my raise
Making messes
Is how I spent mosta my days
Chillin' out Maxin
Relaxin all slouch
Drinkin' some bottle
Inside on the couch
When a sneaky l'il cat
Who was up to no good
Started makin' trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one little tiff
And my mom got scared
She said "I'm puttin' gloves on the cat;
Now that's only fair."
I whistled for a scooter
And when it came near
It had sticker license plate
And and a lion face to steer!
If anything I can say
That this scoot' was fool.
But I thought "man, forget it - yo Home, To my room!"

I dropped into the crib
'Bout 6:30 or 7
I yelled to my momma
"You'll smell me at 11!"

I looked at my cribdom
I was finally there
And that's how I became
Princess while the cat
Was first born heir.

My home has a window wall
panes and all
that are hard to clean
but the light coming through
is worth it - you'll see
the view is to a street
so I can see what humans
are like by themselves
in a bunch
my home has scratched
wood floors
that scratch - a roller skate
and over there - a chair
fell backwards
my home has been home
to loves moms
strangers dogs
lonely artists
and parakeets
my home is warmed by the sun
and cooled by a breeze
my home rarely needs lamps
or voices raised
my home has a jade
with red tips
and walls made from brick
that scratch your elbows
when you lean on them
so that you remember her
whenever again you
scratch on bricks
my home will be for a while
until I am old
and I will give her up
for another homesick soul
with no idea
what she's missing
except for what she's hoping.

Homesick for a place
I never knew.
It is almost
the place between
shoulder and chest
or the musty lungful
of his beard,
the breathy buildup
before her canteloupe
kiss-laugh
duck feathers, lemon Pledge
and a faint whiff
asphalt sealer and coal.
Half-a-half-a century
and I need to ache
to get to my home-not-house.

trp trp hmmspsh
hmm tkp tkp
ck-ch-ck-ch-ck-ck-chhh
haah-haam-hu/
haaaumm pa ta!
ck-chh ooowph
t-t-ttttt-chhh-a!
hmmm paaah
tkp tkp hmmm
tkp tkp hmmmspsh
mmmmm

After months of silence,
stillness, she is thin -
hangs her wings out to dry.
Her wings.
Her reward for
endurance, faith.
Slim veins pump blood and strength
into her
her great black and orange wings
beat their reward fiercely.