|
Home
Current
Issue (Autumn 2007)
Summer
2007
Spring
2007
Winter
2007
Autumn
2006
Summer
2006
Spring
2006
Winter
2006
Fall
2005
Summer
2005
Editor's
Note
Guidelines
SNR's
Writers
Contact
|
My
prince is dead
My
prince is dead.
, bare feet
full of armor.
Eyes
smashingly blue.
Dirty.
He crossed a mountain
full of
sky to get to me,
but he died at my doorstep.
Poor
doughty soul.
He was going to tell me
how much he needed
me,
how much he wanted to rescue me
from my wretched mind
and empty orgasms.
But he's part of another sphere now.
Sword in hand.
Riding into the Dali heavens.
Shame I
needed him more then your boring war ever did.
|
|
In there
off to the side
In
there off to the side, behind the tall statue, It wasn't simple.
You were guided. You followed like the sun falls into
the ground and
people stare. Easy as Sunday.
A
quiet moment and a gentle warmth, only you don't seem to notice.
But
feel comforted and sound. Your soul delicate like a
baby's bottom.
Fresh and blameless.
You're growing
and growing and then the rain in your pocket reaches
your
tongue and you feel it all over again. It's like velvet.
You
smell the grass rich in your head.
Your feet are
moving now guided by the wind and something inside.
Something you think is yours. That thing that feels you
up. It keeps
you company.
There it is, the
drawbridge. An exit resting comfortably between
tomorrow
and the brilliant glow of dandelions. Reaching for the
banister you descend the dragon and begin to smile.
Waiting
for the sun.
|
|
Me and
Mars
I
haven't been this lonely
since Mars came into discovery.
And
when all the planets are terrifically aligned
maybe my true
love will show its face,
in a dog's smile or a guitar string,
I don't care as long as it keeps me from
tearing my
fucking eyes out.
A drum roll's inside my head
Boom
chicka boom,
Elvis Presley died alone
with his sunglasses
on
but that's not going happen to me.
I have too many
trashy novels to live.
Besides I don't even own a pair of
sunglasses.
Squinting with the crevice of my soul
so
tight, no light can enter
but the sun's not my sex planet
anyway.
No-strings-attached guys
coming in like a herd of
dirty cattle.
They must smell my lust
seeping out of
every part of my throbbing body.
Gonna tell them to drop
their boy dreams
on some other whore, like their mother.
What's the matter sir, am I too frightening for you?
Well
then I'll be dumb,
because I know complicated women can be
such a hassle,
until a breast comes out,
divine and round
as mother earth.
I don't have any damage yet, at 33
so
I'll be that play-thing you want me to be.
Just say you won't
leave me and
go build a skyscraper or wait to make your first
million.
Trying hard to get to Mars without me.
Don't
worry, I'll catch up I promise.
|