Indulging in the Drollums

Mary Marie Moriarty cannot marry
Her face is too wide and her hips are too much thigh
She spends her money on beauty
And her beauty on boys
Who only care about her money
The vicious cycle continues

when it rains, it floods

Last night
I thought of a poem
about how everyone writes poems
either in the center of the page
or on the left hand side
and how no one writes poems
that are on the right.
I wondered why
and I thought
perhaps it is because
we wouldn’t be able to read
the poem like normal.
Instead
the poem would
be read from right to left?
or maybe from left to right
like usual.
I really didn’t know
what to make of this
perhaps even
the words would be
spelled from
right to left
rather than reading
the individual words
left
to
right.
It was confusing.
I don’t remember the poem anymore
so this is what I came up with.
my argument
would have been
that you never see
a right hand button
on blogs
but my argument is pointless
because wordpress
has a right side button
strangely.
Hence
my poem.

money solves everything

what is the world coming to?
I’ve got children bribing me with money
attempts to make me feel better
but all it does is make me sicker,
children who don’t appreciate the knowledge
the special education they’re receiving
and their parents don’t know how they’re behaving
spoiling them, giving them what they want
so the child will shut up and leave them alone
while they go squander what little money they
have left at the nearest shopping mall.
Then they’re angry when teachers send letters
home saying “Little Suzy isn’t doing her homework and
she thinks money can fix anything”
what do they know, these stupid teachers,
my daughter, my son is the smartest little pest,
doesn’t need homework or grades so I’ll pull him
out of school and teach him myself.
Now little Suzy is 18 and trying to apply to college
but can barely pass the SAT her math is okay
but reading is poor and now she’s regretting
all those missed homeworks and her rich
mother homeschooling her, but that just meant
tutors and sneaking out to the clubs and
bars when she was barely 12 years old
but the bouncers, they let her in because she
looked, dressed, danced, and drank like she
was 18. She’s no angel anymore, mommy and
daddy fight all the time so she goes to the
store and buys two packs, one for now and
the second for when the first runs out.
25 years now and bribing people with money
doesn’t work as well as it used to because
now money doesn’t pour from the parents
who spoiled her, buried long ago in the ground
and now living on life savings and a
waitress-ing job that barely makes the rent
who will she bribe anyhow, college officials
won’t accept her so there’s no use going back
to school to maybe get a degree in
edumacation because, hell, she barely listened
to her own teachers how was she going to be
one herself?
All the while I’m on the sidelines making
rent every month while trying to educate
the fine children of own our decline but out
they go, out the window looking for the last
sunrise that will mark the end of mankind
handing me with it the five dollar bill
mommy just handed her for snacks this morning.

an ocean tide swells and eddies

I see the cold looks
the quietness that descends
awkward “hello”s and “how are you”s
as you enter the room.
I see you shrug it off,
smile your best and
act like friends
even if they’re not.
Don’t worry. I see
everything and you
don’t need to try.
They’re just jealous
of your freedom, jealous
of the great risk
you have taken.
They don’t know or
don’t care to understand
your hardships, quests
to succeed because they
are too focused on their
own needs to feel loved,
being spoiled by mommy and daddy,
to be someone they don’t
know if that’s who they
are willing to be.
Don’t take it to heart.
I’ll always be here, for you,
for me. I’m proud of
all you have striven to be.

 

Sometimes the worst things can bring you down but there will always be people there who will bring you up. Worrying about the ones who have let you down isn’t going to fix anything.

Stuck on Rewind

You are barely conscious of your own actions, constantly zoning out, but you are aware of Amy in the corner, squirming and not seeming to enjoy herself. You suggest going outside, reminding everyone to wear their jackets and put on some boots because it is cold out.

Everything is white. It blinds your eyes. You’ve been inside all day and the sun on the cold icy snow is different and almost a relief. The fresh piercing air slowly saturates your blood cells.

“Let’s go get soap.”

You head over to the convenience store down the block with your two little buddies, following behind them. You can’t concentrate so you go inside yourself and dream. You look down at your feet and while watching them move, left right left right, you are transported to a different dimension. Suddenly there’s a jingling of bells and you open the door to the convenience store. Amy and Justin are already bending down, scanning the shelves. You stand around but too many colors and sense assault you. The guy behind the counter is staring at you, or maybe he isn’t. You realize you are blocking the entrance and join your friends in the search for soap.

“I can’t find it.” “Me neither.” “What about you, Kaitlin?” “Nope.”

All three of you exit. You’ve caused enough ruckus in that little store. On your walk back you come across a little picnic table underneath a gazebo. Your companions decide to sit down. You can’t even think of a response so you join them.

“It’s cold.” “I’m hungry.”

You’re lost in your mind and inside it Amy is crying. She’s mumbling something but you can’t understand her through her sobs and tears, eyes shut. You stumble and open your eyes to find yourself back in your room. You’re getting a hat because it is cold outside but your stiff arms aren’t being relayed the message to pick up your black knit hat so Justin is picking it up for you. He places it in your hands and you hold it, glancing at it. What do you do now? You hold it tight with both hands and then slowly fit the cap around your ears and then trudge back out the door.

You open your eyes to be blinded by the snow again. Your butt is cold but not a wet kind of cold. The chilly air and blowing against your one-layer jean-covered ass and you can see the picnic bench between your thighs. You are where you were a few minutes ago. You look up to Amy and find a half-empty bag of cookies in her hand. You don’t remember ever buying cookies. You see a hat on Justin’s head. Slowly, you reach up and feel your own head, only to find your black knit hat instead of your soft hair. You don’t remember walking to your room to get your hat, only the hazy dream that happened eons ago. Perhaps this is the dream.

You grab your hat, confused. Justin and Amy laugh, amused. Amy offers you a cookie and you eat one. Then two more. Amy’s crying again and she’s asking for Ryan’s number because there’s something wrong with you or you’re locked out of your apartment, you can’t figure out which. Regardless you try to open your phone but the screen stares blankly back at you and you don’t understand numbers or letters. Something about being outside is throwing you off. You don’t understand how you wound up out here. Have you been outside this whole time? Perhaps inside instead. Both?

“Oh I get it. We’re outside now.” “We’ve been outside.” “Yes, but we were inside and then outside.” “We haven’t been inside. We’ve been outside.” “But we were just inside. Now we’re outside.” “That was 15 minutes ago.”

You’re on the steps now, utterly confused. Amy is hysterical, trying to make you understand that you’ve been outside for 24 hours in the bitter cold, away for a very long time and you’ve only gotten back and that you haven’t been inside and now you’re finally going inside. You don’t understand. It’s too confusing. You just see Amy crying and you want to console her so you try to understand what is wrong. You see the door and you stand there while Justin and Amy stand there with you. A few minutes pass, then Justin reaches for your key just as you realize what you need to do. You reach for the key and unlock the door, letting all three of you inside. Innocent bystanders watch, amused.

Your hat is off, your boots and jackets are on the floor and Justin sits you on a chair. He tells you you’re inside now and suddenly you remember a voice asking for the password to your computer. They laugh and tell you that happened ages ago. You only remember it being a few minutes. Perhaps years have gone by. You realize you have screwed something up and you hope to undo it. You want to call Ryan. Perhaps he can help Amy. You pull out your phone but somewhere along the way you dropped it and now the screen is scratched and dirty, covered in mud. It doesn’t work. You don’t know what to do. You turn backwards, thinking of a tape recorder. Perhaps, if you do the same and rewind, you can go back to hours and hours ago. The world will go backwards and then you can move forward again, making sense of everything.

Suddenly you feel very very soft. Your bones, holding you together, have turned to mush. There’s stitching around your fingertips, keeping the fuzz inside. Everything you touch is soft, bendable, even the wooden furniture. How did everything become like this? You open your eyes and find yourself lying on a very soft comforter. The material reminds you of the stitches and you see yourself turning, turning, rewinding back in time but the room around you is only becoming smaller and smaller. You’ve become lost in this game and you can’t find a way out. You’re slowly being sucked into the end of the tape and you try to stop but you’ve let yourself rewind too far. Your phone is broken and it is the only way back. Your battery is dead.

You see Justin sitting in a chair. You run to him. Then you turn around and see Amy sitting on the other side and you run to her. You don’t know who to go to, but you know Amy needs to be comforted. You blabber and she stares at you, confused and worried. You are the one who needs to be comforted.