(no subject)
Long blonde hair falls over my left eye. I slowly brush it away, stiff & greasy against my forehead, then grope for the kitchen counter to steady myself. Shift weight off of my left leg. The gold-painted bootcast that I wear to walk outside, sliding on icy sidewalks, is hidden in Haley's room. I wear her small black boots instead. My crutches lean on the wall across the room, utterly seperate from me. A former lover walks in and does not recognize me. Another would-be does a doubletake before coming over to show off his brown courduroy suit. I hoist myself up to sit, then lean down: Will you bring me a beer?, handing over my amber goblet with the plastic stuck-on jewels. The low slit of my white dress falls open just enough to make me wonder if he's looking.
Couchboy walks up and strokes my hair. Lets his fingers slide down unrushed, lingering on the big mermaid sausage curls that spill over my shoulders. "I just want to...!" he says, "Molest you, or something!" I laugh and yell: Since when? He reaches for the curls again and I match his odd stare, those marble eyes.
I mark the hookah with bright red lipstick as I suck in honey and cappuccino. I stay seated while a parade of kids files through. Psychedelic adventurers, art students, frat boys, drunk punks, feathered hippies, creeps and farmers all talk to me. Trainkid rushes in, grabs my face and kisses me on the mouth. I push him off and he disappears. His fiance walks by, followed by a Sarah in her panties and a boy who bounces half a foot with each step.
"Marilyn!" says Babydaddy with fuzzy purple vest. "What did you do to yourself?"
All those stories about my being decapitated, it's all shit. I jumped, is what really happened. I jumped but not far enough, so I'm still here.
"Never cut your hair," says the man in the gas station. "Natural is the most beautiful. How lovely!"
"It feels so strange," says Couchboy, caressing.
To anyone: You want to see? This is where the bone came out. Other side and it would've stabbed my skunk ape tattoo straight through the heart. Up here's where they put the metal in. Look what I can do. I can stand, see? Wanna feel my forearm muscles? I fell. I was escaping. It was parkour. Velociraptors were chasing me.
Did you recognize me? Say you didn't.
I scratch my face and the mole spreads across my cheek.
"I just can't stop touching it," fondling. This is how you want me. "What do you mean? Of course not just tonight, it's not just that..." Full-face makeup done by a drag queen majoring in transformation & beautification.
Only the buddhist boys & the kissy Cherry House girls get to see it come off.
Like spilling a childhood secret. A couple of gasps. I won't recognize myself in the morning.
Like a sick baby bird. Unable to fly. Shiny tracking tag strapped around its spindly leg.
Couchboy walks up and strokes my hair. Lets his fingers slide down unrushed, lingering on the big mermaid sausage curls that spill over my shoulders. "I just want to...!" he says, "Molest you, or something!" I laugh and yell: Since when? He reaches for the curls again and I match his odd stare, those marble eyes.
I mark the hookah with bright red lipstick as I suck in honey and cappuccino. I stay seated while a parade of kids files through. Psychedelic adventurers, art students, frat boys, drunk punks, feathered hippies, creeps and farmers all talk to me. Trainkid rushes in, grabs my face and kisses me on the mouth. I push him off and he disappears. His fiance walks by, followed by a Sarah in her panties and a boy who bounces half a foot with each step.
"Marilyn!" says Babydaddy with fuzzy purple vest. "What did you do to yourself?"
All those stories about my being decapitated, it's all shit. I jumped, is what really happened. I jumped but not far enough, so I'm still here.
"Never cut your hair," says the man in the gas station. "Natural is the most beautiful. How lovely!"
"It feels so strange," says Couchboy, caressing.
To anyone: You want to see? This is where the bone came out. Other side and it would've stabbed my skunk ape tattoo straight through the heart. Up here's where they put the metal in. Look what I can do. I can stand, see? Wanna feel my forearm muscles? I fell. I was escaping. It was parkour. Velociraptors were chasing me.
Did you recognize me? Say you didn't.
I scratch my face and the mole spreads across my cheek.
"I just can't stop touching it," fondling. This is how you want me. "What do you mean? Of course not just tonight, it's not just that..." Full-face makeup done by a drag queen majoring in transformation & beautification.
Only the buddhist boys & the kissy Cherry House girls get to see it come off.
Like spilling a childhood secret. A couple of gasps. I won't recognize myself in the morning.
Like a sick baby bird. Unable to fly. Shiny tracking tag strapped around its spindly leg.