nothing

what do you want
from me

nothing

the conversation ends
there

nothing

more to
say
call it a day
& everyone
should be
well
on their way
a walk away line
but it doesn’t
end there
women remember
the words lied
to rest
it never ends
there

nothing

is NOT enough

words
said
in the hollow
reverberate
the stone thrown
into placid
water ripple
circle expansion to

nothing

the apology
rushed blanket
layed thick lullaby
tempo(ed) cushion secures

nothing

the crash
of a tree
alone
in the woods

nothing

quiets the silence

psgates

breast

they are looking
at my breast
again

first it was
my mother’s
worry of
hand-me-down flat-chested
jest & jeers—her bra
full of tissue
ready to wipe
away my tears
& then her fears
as I developed
the attraction of
the boyz
wide eyed grasping
with gasp & sweaty
minds fumbling
with these new keys
& backseat license
everyone hard & hungry
what was I to think?
these
in the way
things
growing—bulging
out of my
tomboy torn body
too soon
at the mercy of
men
greedy-weedy
men
but the babies
the babies came
hungry & eager
to pull the purpose
from these breast
and I was
grateful for the liberation
gleeful for the validation
I had squirt guns!
always at the ready-aim
& cream!
enough to calm
butterball bellies
rocked in my arms
warm growing things

they are looking
at my breast
again
this time
gram by mamm-o-gram

psgates

comedy

back to the boards
the stage set bare
on the bones of
the voices
Ophelia pleading her weeds
the voices
Plath screaming Tulips
echoed emotion
pounded on the rafters
rain down now
gel lit dust
in its turn
glitter
the lines
in my mouth
cotton themselves
sweat themselves
cold

down on my
knees—fist
pound the
ground
what is it—you—want
from me

the telephone
rings—the
door bangs—the
children home—the
lawn begs—the
chores
of the day—of
the way I move—on
hard healed
steps sound
loud and
sure—the lines
flow from my
mouth—fluid
in delivery
tendered purpose—full

life is
comedy

psgates

their close call

a day of
September rain—chill
hangs ready at—the eaves

honey-dos casual
in their toss aside
to make way
for a game of
smiles on the lip
of a laugh—children
warm in a watchful
wonder with a
mouth full of cheerios
the spill
left for a—not so stray—dog
chairs pull up to a table
of elbows and dribbles of
gravy mashed with
potatoes—peas and
please pass the
round
kitchen chatter
over a clean
doesn’t have to be holiday
platter

the glass slips
from fingers’
hold a
tumble measured
time stretched
stop-watched
shatter—sudden
in its spread
across—the
flat floor—the
sirens
too far—away the
fire—too hungry
licks at a window view of
confusion

a crowd crushes out
reality & fumbles its
mumble of “what if it happened to me?”
too close to
my ear

psgates