Monday, December 11, 2017

year in frags


January
again the same day
I went for walks
I played guitar
I saw koi fish frozen in a pond
a tshirt hanging on a branch
I pick at my face


Are we on the same page?
I'm so remote
I don't feel like talking to anyone
Not even myself






February 
mudslides and earthquakes
I was wearing pointy kitten heels with gold details
they clicked and sank into the mud












March
the graphic on the cardboard fruit box
the bird chasing the cat
chasing the dog chasing the rabbit
a blue and white box















April
tree sap in the air
smiling dogs and dust glittering in the sun
God is a dog dancing
the houses come from the quarry
my slippers come from China
frozen blackberries come from the store
snowdrops come from the ground
I feel my skin come back to life like a bouquet withering in reverse
we drive to Rolling Hill to see the firehouse dalmatian
we roll the windows all the way down
I see my spots in the side mirror
and get bitter silently
silver white winters that melt into spring
elegant trappings for this sapling
I drink that resin burning smell













May
pale green food and friends I don't have
I like keeping a tidy home
scouring in the right order
I like knowing where everything is
I like being over prepared










August
The little frown I make when looking down at my body in a bathing suit
do all women know how that feels
a bit of anguish that it looks the same

the Lolita at the lunch spot
with bikini top and cut off shorts
soft brown skin and pillow curves dappled by sun through a tree
hair french braided and wispy
light blue eyes
sitting at a red picnic table looking so bored
into her phone and yet so perfect
I see him throwing quick looks at her
and get jealous

the abundance of beautiful women in the world
that men get to look at
vs. how often I compare him to other men
which is frankly never

a dragonfly lands at my table
green and robotic gem creature

A furry black and white caterpillar
rests on a thought
of I need to do better

should
need