Quick poem from a desparate girl

Just a little reassurance.
A little kiss.
A love rant, tug at me and make me clear of mind.
Just pin me up, push me into the wall, make me.

Can't you feel me?

Holy Mother Church

The Catholic Church makes me want to die.

So much for "holy mother church"...mother left to go get more liquor and left junior with Chester the child molester. Oh, but Chester didn't mean to be bad, so let's pay off mommy and get him a job at a FRIGGIN DAYCARE CENTER!

It's beyond comprehension that people can get away with this kind of behavior simply because they are fake 'men of G-d'. I run a red light, I get a ticket. I don't pay my taxes, the feds come and get me. I mess around with children, you bet your Aunt Betty I'm in prison faster than you can say, "Don't drop the soap".

I don't know what the answer is. I do know though that the answer involves some kind of justice for the victims. What kind of justice, you ask? Anything these survivors want. Let your imagination run wild.

Fufu Bunny and the Almost Dead Girl

There's a girl speeding down I-69 She's smoking a cigarette and thinking about the state of our welfare system and how we all lie and how she wanted strawberry shampoo. Her topless Spyder zipped passed a speed limit sign, going much faster than was legal. It was dirty and tired, just like her. But she was beautiful and hard to catch and leaving the world in her dust. Just her and Dean Martin on the radio and Fufu Bunny buckled up in the seat next to her. She'd been alone on the empty stretch for a hundred miles, slightly curving to the left, to the right but always flat. She put her foot down and the car shot across the landscape. The cacti and prairie dogs became quick flashes, then just fuzzy blurs. A car materialized on the horizon, she slowed, but only for a moment, before she gunned the motor again. "He has to see me" she said of the other driver...

A toad hopped by the smoking wreckage. He paused, but only for a moment, before he continued on his path. Her car was on it's top and the other car was crumpled, it's left turn signal still blinking. . . . .

She awoke in vibrant colors and with a strawberry lollipop in her mouth. She spit it onto the dirt only to have the birds and bees take it up to the nests that they shared. Fufu Bunny laid beside her, somehow staring at her was malcontent through button eyes. Slipping past carrot trees and walls made from jars of marmalade stacked up like bricks, she thought to herself, then said to Fufu Bunny "Candyland, this is not." The sun rose three times and was a cotton ball soaked in gatorade. Then the moon came out, only to reveal it was ball of medical waste. She was lost among madness with nothing but her torn clothes, a carrot plucked from a tree with a jar of marmalade for dipping and Fufu Bunny; too much like Alice to comprehend. But Alice wasn't alone. She had help.

Jaded road led to a hot air balloon, ruby slippers and a floating bubble but she refused to go near them. Carrot trees were about as weird as she was going today. She curled up under a tree that didn't talk and went to sleep with Fufu Bunny.

After the second rising of the sun, she awoke with Fufu Bunny sitting on her chest, his head leaning slightly to the left. She stood up and continued to the right, down the jaded road. She finally hit a wall made of jars of ink and couldn't knock it down. She took a feather off the ground and used the ink to write all over the trees that didnt talk and the jaded road. "Life is moments turned to hours." "He will make you cry, no doubt." "Death to the Czar" "Laugh it up, fuzzball!" "Fufu Bunny was here." When she was satisfied, she stood back to admire her work only to see it all crumble before her eyes.

She was going to turn around and go back; at least there she had marmalade and carrots. But she didn't. She went past the threshold and didn't look back because she knew it wouldn't be there if she did. She walked up to her car, broken and sad, just like her. She laid down next to her car and her head started to bleed. Her legs broke and her jaw cracked in six places. Fufu bunny was nestled under her dislocated arm. She could hear a faint song in the wind, humming to keep her company as she waited for someone to come.

The C word

I've been reluctant to write about this.

Maybe because that would make it real or because it's just too damn scary. I have low grade, beginning stages of cervical cancer. I was free and clear for the last year and in the last month it's reared it's ugly little head again.

I'm not scared of leaving this body. I fear the hurt it would bring the people I love but I have no fear for myself. But I don't think that's really an option for me with this. It's early and highly monitored. I do fear of falling so far into debt that I can't crawl out. That I won't be able to buy my next house. That I couldn't get a loan for my next business. That if I get married, I would hurt my husbands credit.

I am still on COBRA but only until September then I'm on my own. It's so expensive that I've been selling some clothes and other household items to collect enough for the monthly payment. It's at these moments when I'm writing out the checks to my old boss, that prick, that I consider crazy thing.

Like when I drive past the local strip joint, I do consider it for half a moment. Making a thousand dollars on a Saturday night... that would pay off my medical lab bills and then some... I know why desperate women get married. I know why they sell their hair and blood. But that's not me. Not yet at least.

But it does make me think about people and the choices they make. The girl sucking on the stripper pole, whores on the corner, pushers, the desperate people out there. Maybe they didn't have a choice. Work at McDonalds for 7.50 an hour and still can't make rent or hit the street and feed yourself and pay rent and heat your place.

It's all a lesson in being less judgmental on my part. It's a lesson I needed to learn. And here I am, humble, broke and a better person. And happier.

A little V-day poem...

This boy, so faint in his intention, has black toes and bloody heart soaked in fed fire, hidden love.
He bothers to pluck his strings.

Fluorescent and incandescent, tearful and beautiful, fluttering bodies fill his lines, cleft between the head and his soul, trembling with what she said but no time to tell her.

And bated breath, turn sigh, non-truth to lie, he could keep riding and learn to get by. Electric eyes and a silver mind and tongue, neon bright.

This boy, his intention clearer, has black toes and bloody heart. He's filled with fire but spilling love, plucking her strings boldly. Standing up and facing right, they all feel it radiating, the light, the heat , the touch and the release.

Followed home, laying it down, all in one, the one is all and everything.