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By Misti Date: 2004 Jan 17 Comment on this Work [[2004.01.17.16.17.25805]] |
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my dreams fucked with me this morning made me a poet star of the malls famous for one poem that described nothing and all the world was a fake haunted house full of photo ops and fascinating people who had more to offer than conversations about their kids or the latest sad country song by Martina McBride life was a carnival ride that did not make me puke and life was a bookstore without bright lights and musak and yuppie parents with brats in strollers people didn't know me but they were convinced I was worthy of each air kiss and accolade I wasn't convinced so I sought solace in a coffee house and then he was there, suddenly a real live dream boy a slacker genius without the smarmy I Know My Beats Backward And Forward (And By The Way, I Have Bootleg Grateful Dead AND Phish)attitude god he was quiet and sweet and oh so humble George Harrison reincarnated a Pisces who said everything that needed to be said with layer stripping brown eyes and a crooked smile and he sat beside me and I ordered coffee and wontons and he touched me and I wanted to say Fuck it, Just Kiss Me and Take Me Home And Inhale Me And Get High And Try To Fuck All The Pain Away And Get it Over With but I was cool and clever, instead "I live in public housing, and I think people should celebrate that," he said that was all it took I wanted to cook for him be a plumber auto mechanic graveyard shift overtime assembly line robot for him bring him to my breasts sing lullabies in his ear cheer him on to each victory no matter how small fall in love with him completely over and over again every morning of my life but I was a wife even in my dream and the gushing waitress had more to offer. |