5.5.09

I AM MAKING AN EFFORT TO WAVE TO MORE PEOPLE AND SO FAR IT'S COOL

here are four poems:


PUBERTY


I believe you can destroy a city with a somersault provided that the city is small enough and provided you don’t have a bad back.

I believe you can trample your friends if you don’t like them and I believe you can trample them or anything else in a way that makes it seem like that’s not what you are doing.

I believe that no one is guilty of anything.

I believe all material objects are made of small green circles that resemble blood cells and I believe that those small green circles all look the same.

And I believe you are one of the small green circles.

I wouldn’t argue with someone who said I was smaller than outerspace.

I’m destined to never talk to a certain amount of the population.

You can cut out a small cube of air and use it as a pillow and you can see things while you are sleeping that will make you scared.

But who doesn’t like a dumb scared motherfucker.


THE EARTH SNIFFED PAINT WHILE IT WAS PREGNANT WITH ME

I have to find a bed where no one will find me.

No one can know where my real bed is.

When I saw a pile of leaves today I thought, “No one will find me here. Here is good for a bed.”

I thought the same thing about this girl’s hood while I was in line at a store but then I remembered she would probably fall over if I slept in her hood and I said, “oh yeah” out loud and she turned and looked at me.

Everything cared about is easily lost or has to die off and you won’t know how it happens until it happens.

You don’t have to forget everyone you meet but you can if you want.


PEOPLE AVOID ME WHEN MY HEAD IS SHAVED

When I wake up I stay completely still and I say, “yayyyy” for as long as I can with one breath.

Yesterday I acted like the lightbulb in my room was the sun and outside my door there were too many evil people waiting for me to want to leave.

I did good acting.

No joy headless adolescent.

It is impossible to dislike someone you see sleeping.


SOMETIMES I AM TOO UPSET TO MAKE FOOD FOR MYSELF

I don’t like when someone touches my face.

First I feel disgusted.

Then I feel angry.

Don’t touch my face ever.

The teeth are the belly’s fence.

And uh something else that I don’t remember.

I’m bad at this.

Bye.

7 comments:

Maya said...

these poems are great
i love and admire your ability to make each line salient

Ani Smith said...

I am going to superglue my fingertips to your face in the most awkward way, Pink.

Molly Gaudry said...

I don't cook for myself anymore. I used to. For other people, too. Meals that took two days to prepare. Not anymore.

Last week, I ate peanut M&Ms for dinner. Twice. Economically speaking, it's best if I only eat one meal a day.

If not peanut M&Ms, usually Pop Tarts, Vitamin Water, handfuls of cereal, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I don't have the heart for cooking, anymore.

One day, Sam, I'll cook us a meal.

sam pink said...

maya, your name means "illusion" according to my copy of "The upanishads."

ani, then your fingers will be ugly.

molly, girl you need to take care yo-self. eating all that garbage. i cook a lot. but sometimes i go for weeks eating barely anything. i would cook for you.

cavazynski said...

your webpage breathes when i read it.

Molly Gaudry said...

And I would cook for you, in turn.

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,