Writer-ly Attempts
2004 Poems

connoisseur

putting me in the back
of his liquor cabinet,
he said i�d make a
fine wine yet.

i�ve watched him
reach for other bottles
of different sizes
shapes and colors.

now he thrashes through
the cabinet and says
he�s still thirsty.

i�m ready to be
uncorked,
for his hands to
run over me.
excitement causes
my insides to rise
closer to the mouth
of my bottle.

�there isn�t anything
good to drink,�
he continues.

he�s not saving me
for later.

he�s saving me
for never.


behind written words

you�ve got neat handwriting--
for a boy,
and yet
i scan your letters
over and over.

all the words on the pages
are clear, but i keep
thinking (hoping?)
there are other words
behind the ones i see.

does �talk to you soon�
mean you�ll call?
is it an invitation
for me to call you?
is it anything at all?

is any of it--anything?

you�ve got neat handwriting
for a boy,
but not neat enough.


ching-chong charlie

other kids used to chase me
chanting sing-song nonsense
and pulling at the corners
of their eyes with their fingers.

even now i walk around
with my fingers pushing
at the corners of my eyes�
pushing them in.

i screw my mouth shut,
afraid that the voices
of those children will escape.


wearing pants

when my father cleared out,
she unearthed dusty hangers
with tiny-waisted skirts
that i�ve only seen her wear
in faded photographs.

as much as my mother gasped
and gasped,
she couldn�t be
twenty again.

she gave them to me to try on,
but they pinched me
in all the wrong places,

she cried.

we both looked at
my father�s closet,
she saw a gaping hole,
while i noticed a belt
dangling on a door hook.

i threaded it through
the loops of my jeans
and buckled it.

hooking my thumbs
in my two front pockets
i argued that there was hope
after all.


nautical connections

the sailboats and i
have been waiting
for the river to thaw
like hungry children
eye frozen steaks
in a water bath.

now they teeter and totter
unused to legs after winter.
their once slack sails
balloon in the wind like
cheeks on a smiling face.

we�ve all been
upright too long.

two boats sway
in each other�s direction.
i lean backwards and
another body meets mine.


early morning caution

it�s late but i can�t tell
how early it is.
his glasses on the sill
are too weak for me
to read the clock.

his head rests
in the crook of my neck
but i look
out the window
at the flashing yellow
traffic lights.

i hate them because
they urge me to
proceed (with caution),
but i�d rather idle here
at a red light.


thunder, on lightning

she�s the gleam
in mama�s eye.

like a proper woman,
she is modest,
strolling by windows
without a sound.

like a pretty woman,
she makes men look
up in her passing
to catch a glimpse
of her slip of a figure.

i follow her
and as mama says,
i try to learn.
but she�s too fast
and i stumble behind.

i�m always bringing
up the rear,
holding her veil.


foundation

they are false admirers,
drawn not to me, but
to the trophy in my arms.

what elicits praise
from their lips
are not my abilities, but
three plexiglass columns
sprouting from a base
on which my name
is engraved in gold.

i stand on tip-toe,
looking past the cluster
of people in which
i am the center.

my mother stands
in the doorway
clutching her purse.
our eyes meet,
and she lifts her chin
in my direction.

i nod in response.

descending from a high
perch on my column
built out of praise,
i push through the crowd
and return to my base.


asymmetrical

you fiddle with
the utensils and plate,
and only smile
when your setting
is a mirror image
of mine opposite.

i nudge my fork
farther to the left.
your fingers reach
over to return
the tined instrument
to its original place.
my hand intercepts,
we rub knees
under the table.

you, desirer of
symmetry in all things,
don�t seem to notice
a greater imperfection
lurking other than
the silver and china.

our edges,
yours and mine,
do not meet--
dissimilar figures.
you play with numbers
while i shudder at them,
and dabble in words.

but sitting with your
pale hand in my
yellow-brown one,
i adore this lack of order,
hoping our minds
match on this.


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