Sunday, January 30, 2011


Obsessive and Monstrous

A Lonestar Lady from Amarillo, Texas was Turning 23 at 2 AM

"911...What is your emergency?"
that's what makes
the world go around
and round and around
And upside under,
upside down, don't pull the covers off,
just pull my zippers-up
Tell me a know the one,
filled with those thoughts and those images
A bedtime story that will make me horny,
then leave me hanging from the edge
Don't finish me off,
don't finish that story,
don't love me,
don't leave in the morning
Don't make me wait,
don't fill me with glory,
don't say goodbye without any warning
Secrets are meant to be cuddled,
and comforted,
good little secrets,
left under the bed
All secrets ought to be happy and beautiful,
always the ending is left out of the story
Kissing me softly but staring in silence,
killing me softly with understood violence
Shining like poetry
sucked through my feeding tubes,
magnificent isn't this tribute
It is holy,
it is preset,
it is necessary and evil,
please don't close the doors tonight
There is no night light,
but there is someone humping you,
the night is bumping too
Love makes me think of you,
love makes pornography,
porn makes me think of you
Wish you would get off of me,
wish you would just get done with me,
I am a zombie
All of us sometimes feel ugly and dirty,
how long does it take to pound out a piece
Do I have to write you a letter,
have to make up excuses,
let me go,
let my legs loose
Leave me alone, leave me here on the bed,
I never told anyone, no one ever asked
And secrets I keep to myself I will not be owed of these,
left overs hung over boys
Drunken nights out at the Kentucky derby,
richer from gambling, poorer from me
All of my favorite poets are fickle,
I know now that never was asked, and I never
Tell anyone anything,
everything stays in my head,
all the poetry I write and forget
Do I have to write for you,
until all these other things go away,
do I have to do it
Like you wanted it,
said it, and read it,
ask me why I get confused,
because of you
And yes this too, like so many things is not true,
words you say are meaningless
I can see it in your face,
there is no love for me,
falling completely and horribly
Tragically hippie in bed,
bitch slapped,
and barebacked,
what you call a romance
Is what I call a secret, that I keep from everyday,
and one of us will take to our grave
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
( This is Dedicated to the Memory of my friend, my first love, and the woman who was my first everything. I met Deserae when I was nineteen, I fell in love with her, lost my virginity to her, and was unaware at that time that she was on a one was mission to self destruction. On the night of her 23rd birthday Deserae confronted her Father in his home about being a victim of his sexual abuse for fourteen years as a child, an hour later she shot her father four times point blank in the face with her 357 magnum, called 911 reporting his death, drove 25 miles back home, dropped her 4 year old daughter Zoey off with her grandmother, and was found by her best friend Teresa the next morning dead on her bedroom floor. She had drank a near full bottle of whiskey with a combination of over fifty pills of various medications, after having shot up nearly an eight ball of cocaine committing suicide - her heart had stopped at 7:55 PM according to EMTs. She had runaway from home at 14, supporting herself in prostitution until her death on the Ides of March in 1988. Her life never really had a chance. We all miss you Deserae. Sleep in peace my Sacred Cowgirl, your friend, the kid next door. )

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