she feels the seams pinch
as she sits on the green couch with the
stains
and the hail reigns on her strings
she remembers she never sings
never brings
any wax-paper-wrapped scenes
to anyone's heart anymore
instead she's capped
on a Columbusian wave
falling sternly and
crashing onto the dance floor
where the walls ooze onyx oil
settling in pools around her
recoil
adhering their care to every
pore of her skin
everywhere and everyplace
a black begging:
Get us out of this race.
but she's worn the special jewels
of insanity tonight
she's ready for this war
brain and heart will fight
into the night
for what's blindly wrong
and what's deafeningly right
she reaches out a wet and cold hand
to the first friend who can stand
stand the sorry stench
of what her sadistic situation
represents
"Hey, can you score me some?"
she asks in her righteous arrogance
and their eyes oil until black
walls looking down
around and back
[at me]
and now she's here looking back
at the lines, the times and the
tracks
of years and tears and
that fragrance of foiled fears
that allowed her to be born in the first
place
"Where was that gun?"
she asks the slimy silhouettes
I know someone had to have had one
to start me on this
marathon run
but when she fumbles in the closet
darkened by the lies
layers of languish
simply stain further her eyes
until a lone shot goes
and she's in a puddle of her own
black
lost forever
in the name of
never
looking
back
�Ellee 2001
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