Hystericana
Poems by Oona Miller
Copyright (c) Oona Miller, 2019
Poems by Oona Miller
Copyright (c) Oona Miller, 2019
###
Table of Contents
Click a title to jump down on the page.
Table of Contents
Click a title to jump down on the page.
- Hystericana
- Iowa Children Stare at Me
- Chimera
- Neighbor Boys
- Dreamgirl
- WASTING
- confession
- CONFESSION
- Questions
- Nobodies
- Release
- Far Off
- Thursday’s Child
- A Garden For Hiding
- Mom, don’t you realize
- June 20th, 2019. Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina.
- Hospital Gown
- Nice to meet you.
- Burn my Letters when I die
- HAUNTING
- Lyle’s Pub on the Night of a Cancelled Event
- SNEAKING
- Acknowledgments
###
Hystericana
Hysteria comes from the Ancient
Greek word for womb, hystera.
The Greeks believed that a uterus
could crawl within a person’s body
up to their neck and strangle them.
Sometimes my hysteria jumps
into my throat and chokes my reason,
sealing it just below my vocal folds.
Sometimes my hysteria flows out
through my fingers and onto computer keys
or scraps of lined paper.
Lunacy comes from the Latin word for moon, luna.
Imagine how this might relate to the creepy-crawly
creature-womb with a mind of its own.
Imagine how my hysteria and my lunacy slither
around my intestines, nudging them out of place.
Imagine how the creature breaks free from my body
on full moons and howls, hoping for a far-off echo.
Imagine how she returns to me in the early morning
while I’m still dreaming, curls up near my chest, and grieves.
I want to have my way with the world
and the world to have its way with me;
throw me under its thousand beating hooves.
This morning I crawled out of my dreams
to find my hysteria kneading at my organs.
Let’s see what we can make of it.
Hystericana
Hysteria comes from the Ancient
Greek word for womb, hystera.
The Greeks believed that a uterus
could crawl within a person’s body
up to their neck and strangle them.
Sometimes my hysteria jumps
into my throat and chokes my reason,
sealing it just below my vocal folds.
Sometimes my hysteria flows out
through my fingers and onto computer keys
or scraps of lined paper.
Lunacy comes from the Latin word for moon, luna.
Imagine how this might relate to the creepy-crawly
creature-womb with a mind of its own.
Imagine how my hysteria and my lunacy slither
around my intestines, nudging them out of place.
Imagine how the creature breaks free from my body
on full moons and howls, hoping for a far-off echo.
Imagine how she returns to me in the early morning
while I’m still dreaming, curls up near my chest, and grieves.
I want to have my way with the world
and the world to have its way with me;
throw me under its thousand beating hooves.
This morning I crawled out of my dreams
to find my hysteria kneading at my organs.
Let’s see what we can make of it.
###
Iowa Children Stare at Me
I sit alone in theater seats
And try to cease my bouncing leg
Because I know these folks will feel
The bounce of loneliness and beg
For me to stop and wait in peace
For me to stop and rest my knee
But in the row ahead of mine
A boy is staring straight at me
He butts his face against his mom
Her shoulder wrapped in knit and purl
I see his mouth say softly then
“But, mom, are they a boy or girl?”
“Well, she’s a girl,” the mother says
And though she got it right this time
I wish she’d let him ask aloud
A youngster’s question is no crime
In the end he turns away
His queries he will not pursue
I can assure you, little one
I’m just as strange as you
Iowa Children Stare at Me
I sit alone in theater seats
And try to cease my bouncing leg
Because I know these folks will feel
The bounce of loneliness and beg
For me to stop and wait in peace
For me to stop and rest my knee
But in the row ahead of mine
A boy is staring straight at me
He butts his face against his mom
Her shoulder wrapped in knit and purl
I see his mouth say softly then
“But, mom, are they a boy or girl?”
“Well, she’s a girl,” the mother says
And though she got it right this time
I wish she’d let him ask aloud
A youngster’s question is no crime
In the end he turns away
His queries he will not pursue
I can assure you, little one
I’m just as strange as you
###
Chimera
I’m a creature with one hoof
Caught in a length of barbed wire
And one paw bleeding
Into the forest floor
My talons are chipped and broken
My heads disagree with each other
I feed on stolen nail polish
And straight-A report cards
Come one, come all!
The barbed wire cuts into my ankle
Raising scars on the sinew and tendons
I cradle a plastic horse figurine in my beak
Wouldn’t you like to have it?
I don’t have the patience to settle down and
Undo the barbed wire from around my heel
Not yet, at least
In the meantime I hiss and spit
You call my song shrill
I smash my neck against the fence
I give myself splinters
Wouldn’t you like to take
a closer look?
Chimera
I’m a creature with one hoof
Caught in a length of barbed wire
And one paw bleeding
Into the forest floor
My talons are chipped and broken
My heads disagree with each other
I feed on stolen nail polish
And straight-A report cards
Come one, come all!
The barbed wire cuts into my ankle
Raising scars on the sinew and tendons
I cradle a plastic horse figurine in my beak
Wouldn’t you like to have it?
I don’t have the patience to settle down and
Undo the barbed wire from around my heel
Not yet, at least
In the meantime I hiss and spit
You call my song shrill
I smash my neck against the fence
I give myself splinters
Wouldn’t you like to take
a closer look?
###
Neighbor Boys
When they still lived down the hill
I used to kiss the crazy neighbor boys
With good manners [1]
At the park
With the mosquitoes [2]
And the other crazy girls
Now I lie in the spare beds of unwild women
And kiss their crazy friends [3]
And nothing much has changed
Except now I wear jeans
And have pierced ears
And I am no longer so crazy myself [4]
[1] The neighbor boys had good manners / According to their mother / I did not
[2] The mosquitoes kissed me too / I did not kiss them back
[3] She was my friend too / I suppose
[4] I wonder what changed
Neighbor Boys
When they still lived down the hill
I used to kiss the crazy neighbor boys
With good manners [1]
At the park
With the mosquitoes [2]
And the other crazy girls
Now I lie in the spare beds of unwild women
And kiss their crazy friends [3]
And nothing much has changed
Except now I wear jeans
And have pierced ears
And I am no longer so crazy myself [4]
[1] The neighbor boys had good manners / According to their mother / I did not
[2] The mosquitoes kissed me too / I did not kiss them back
[3] She was my friend too / I suppose
[4] I wonder what changed
###
Dreamgirl
Sometimes I wish I were the girl that I am in my dreams: a thieving acrobat who knows where all the streets in her city lead, who is nervous to take but does anyway, who drives like a maniac, who cannot see her own reflection in a mirror or computer screen without it morphing into a monster, who jumps and flies and glides through the thick air without wings, who has the courage to text you.
Then my roommate tells me that I laugh in my sleep, and I realize I am that girl.
Dreamgirl
Sometimes I wish I were the girl that I am in my dreams: a thieving acrobat who knows where all the streets in her city lead, who is nervous to take but does anyway, who drives like a maniac, who cannot see her own reflection in a mirror or computer screen without it morphing into a monster, who jumps and flies and glides through the thick air without wings, who has the courage to text you.
Then my roommate tells me that I laugh in my sleep, and I realize I am that girl.
###
WASTING
Dear friend,
I know that when you say
you want to live on Mars
you really mean you want
to die there.
I know you want to go
so far away you can’t
come back. But you should know.
When I’m with you I don’t
feel like I’m wasting time.
When I’m with you I feel
like I’m just where I need
to be.
When we’re lying on our backs
on the carpet in your apartment
I notice how your ceiling is
much taller than mine.
There’s room here to orbit.
I look at you and feel
my heart unclench its fists.
I look at you and life’s
not crashing in around me.
WASTING
Dear friend,
I know that when you say
you want to live on Mars
you really mean you want
to die there.
I know you want to go
so far away you can’t
come back. But you should know.
When I’m with you I don’t
feel like I’m wasting time.
When I’m with you I feel
like I’m just where I need
to be.
When we’re lying on our backs
on the carpet in your apartment
I notice how your ceiling is
much taller than mine.
There’s room here to orbit.
I look at you and feel
my heart unclench its fists.
I look at you and life’s
not crashing in around me.
###
confession
i don’t understand
much but what i do
know is
i have broken
so many laws since
summer began.
i’m a criminal.
aren’t you?
confession
i don’t understand
much but what i do
know is
i have broken
so many laws since
summer began.
i’m a criminal.
aren’t you?
###
CONFESSION
I DON’T UNDERSTAND
MUCH BUT WHAT I DO
KNOW IS
I HAVE BROKEN
MY HEART SO MANY TIMES SINCE
SUMMER BEGAN.
I’M IN LOVE.
AREN’T YOU?
CONFESSION
I DON’T UNDERSTAND
MUCH BUT WHAT I DO
KNOW IS
I HAVE BROKEN
MY HEART SO MANY TIMES SINCE
SUMMER BEGAN.
I’M IN LOVE.
AREN’T YOU?
###
Questions
At the party he tells me I look well.
Please tell me: Is it the new ring in my nose?
Is it my bleached hair?
The way I filled in my eyebrows today?
Put on mascara?
Please tell me: Is it the sun freckles?
Is it the way I stand so close to you
and show my teeth?
Please tell me.
Please look away.
Questions
At the party he tells me I look well.
Please tell me: Is it the new ring in my nose?
Is it my bleached hair?
The way I filled in my eyebrows today?
Put on mascara?
Please tell me: Is it the sun freckles?
Is it the way I stand so close to you
and show my teeth?
Please tell me.
Please look away.
###
Nobodies
I volunteer at middle school art club
On Friday afternoon
The ten year old girl at my table
Tells me that she
Has to start wearing woman-size
Clothing
And there are no more
Good Halloween costumes for her
I lament with her
And we go back to collaging self-portraits
We paste our faces onto wild animals
She makes me remember a time
Back before we had bodies
Only floating heads of rat’s nest hair
Back when muddy clothing
Hung off our bare spirits
Even as I toppled
Out of that saddle
And onto the arena sand
I had no body
I didn’t know, but
The horse saw my ignorance
She stopped above me
Towering dark and calm
She looked at me and recognized
I had only the feet in my riding boots
And wild calloused hands
From scaling playgrounds
But nothing to connect the limbs
To each other
I had skinned knees left lying on sidewalks
I had skinned hands on roads
Interrupting dinner parties
I had stung curious fingers
From gently cradled bees
But not until that day
At the climbing tree behind Olbrich
When I could not hoist myself up
Onto the branch
Did I realize
The other girls climbed
Higher and higher
I watched from the ground
Weighed down
By my connected parts
Nobodies
I volunteer at middle school art club
On Friday afternoon
The ten year old girl at my table
Tells me that she
Has to start wearing woman-size
Clothing
And there are no more
Good Halloween costumes for her
I lament with her
And we go back to collaging self-portraits
We paste our faces onto wild animals
She makes me remember a time
Back before we had bodies
Only floating heads of rat’s nest hair
Back when muddy clothing
Hung off our bare spirits
Even as I toppled
Out of that saddle
And onto the arena sand
I had no body
I didn’t know, but
The horse saw my ignorance
She stopped above me
Towering dark and calm
She looked at me and recognized
I had only the feet in my riding boots
And wild calloused hands
From scaling playgrounds
But nothing to connect the limbs
To each other
I had skinned knees left lying on sidewalks
I had skinned hands on roads
Interrupting dinner parties
I had stung curious fingers
From gently cradled bees
But not until that day
At the climbing tree behind Olbrich
When I could not hoist myself up
Onto the branch
Did I realize
The other girls climbed
Higher and higher
I watched from the ground
Weighed down
By my connected parts
###
Release
It’s March and spring bubbles
up from the mud
through the cracks in the sidewalk.
It’s spring and the world is telling me
to breathe.
It’s spring and I realize
that when I die, I want you
to shave my head
and offer up my hair
to the birds in our neighborhood.
Let them build homes out of me.
They want white-teeth people here
but we lead coffee-stained lives.
And still
I wake each morning to a brighter sky
and find it easier to dig
the dry, crushed skin out of my face
and the corners of my eyes.
My friend tells me,
“First you have to exist
before you do anything else.”
It’s spring
and the world
is telling me
to breathe.
Release
It’s March and spring bubbles
up from the mud
through the cracks in the sidewalk.
It’s spring and the world is telling me
to breathe.
It’s spring and I realize
that when I die, I want you
to shave my head
and offer up my hair
to the birds in our neighborhood.
Let them build homes out of me.
They want white-teeth people here
but we lead coffee-stained lives.
And still
I wake each morning to a brighter sky
and find it easier to dig
the dry, crushed skin out of my face
and the corners of my eyes.
My friend tells me,
“First you have to exist
before you do anything else.”
It’s spring
and the world
is telling me
to breathe.
###
Far Off
Dear world,
The only other car on the highway
at three in the morning
on a Monday --
What can I give you that she can’t?
What can she give you that I can’t?
Dear moon,
Your crescent cuts me every night --
Your curves caress me --
You are occult and ethereal in a single breath.
When I was a child I thought
you were following our car
through the night.
But the other cars drive in the opposite direction
and they think you’re following them too.
Far Off
Dear world,
The only other car on the highway
at three in the morning
on a Monday --
What can I give you that she can’t?
What can she give you that I can’t?
Dear moon,
Your crescent cuts me every night --
Your curves caress me --
You are occult and ethereal in a single breath.
When I was a child I thought
you were following our car
through the night.
But the other cars drive in the opposite direction
and they think you’re following them too.
###
Thursday’s Child
My dear girl,
I am so glad you never got what you wanted.
What you thought you wanted.
I am glad you spent your days wandering
adjacent to the real world
in empty soccer fields, in prairies,
and around maple trees.
My dear girl,
I am glad you kept your thoughts
inside your head to fester
into fully bloomed blossoms.
I am glad that you didn’t belong to this world
and that you kept yourself -- my dear girl --
in realms of magic and gods
and a family of dancers and flute-players,
where shed goat horns can make horses
into unicorns once more
and springs well up where pegasi
strike the earth with one slender hoof,
and gardens give you all that you desire
at the mere whisper of it.
My dear girl,
I admire the way you slip in and out of reality
like a goldfish through decorative reeds,
but no one ever got anything by wishing for it.
I am so glad you have had to claw your way out
of your misery and toward everything you want
on your own.
I am so glad you are happy.
I am so glad you learned to love yourself
without the help of magic gardens.
Thursday’s Child
My dear girl,
I am so glad you never got what you wanted.
What you thought you wanted.
I am glad you spent your days wandering
adjacent to the real world
in empty soccer fields, in prairies,
and around maple trees.
My dear girl,
I am glad you kept your thoughts
inside your head to fester
into fully bloomed blossoms.
I am glad that you didn’t belong to this world
and that you kept yourself -- my dear girl --
in realms of magic and gods
and a family of dancers and flute-players,
where shed goat horns can make horses
into unicorns once more
and springs well up where pegasi
strike the earth with one slender hoof,
and gardens give you all that you desire
at the mere whisper of it.
My dear girl,
I admire the way you slip in and out of reality
like a goldfish through decorative reeds,
but no one ever got anything by wishing for it.
I am so glad you have had to claw your way out
of your misery and toward everything you want
on your own.
I am so glad you are happy.
I am so glad you learned to love yourself
without the help of magic gardens.
###
A Garden For Hiding
i take a secret trip to the garden
slip in with the young families
and old couples
i’ve never been here without my mother
(Purple Sensation Ornamental Onion)
i swim through the air here
think of how many free places there are
to hide around this sunkissed city
in this sweatsoaked thundertouched town
(Pyramidal Corneliancherry Dogwood)
the bricks in the pathways bear names
of dead humans i don’t know
but i thank them for this place
with a splash through the puddles
(Bronze Wave Coralbells)
algae grows thick and bright
on the surface of the pond
i lean over it and fantasize
about diving in head-first
but the same families i walked in with
have circled around to meet me here
and i keep seeing them as i wade
through the arboretum
(Popcorn Cassia)
the plants here have names like Ruby Star Milkweed
Purple Lovegrass
Hot Lips Pink Turtlehead
Black Magic Chocolate Cosmos
Pineapple Sneezeweed
(Grey Owl Juniper)
i think i hear another thunderrumble
and my mom’s voice
in the sunstormy sky
but i turn the corner and it is no one i know
i turn to the hares in the tall grass
and ask them not to mention
they saw me
(Creeping Mazus)
the air is thick with heat and moisture
and fat flies
and slender birds chattering
to their new babies
i sneak through trails meant for toddlers
and the pines scratch my unshaven legs in protest
or in comfort
(Canary Bird Zinnia)
i sneeze and no one is there to say bless you
i get up from my bench below
the White Satin Birch and spot another plant:
Narcissus poeticus
(The Poet’s Daffodil)
i do a counter-clockwise roundabout
to circle a small statue
and think about
how i used to walk endlessly
around the maple tree in our backyard
and about how
they should not have let me
daydream so much as a child
(Illumination Periwinkle)
A Garden For Hiding
i take a secret trip to the garden
slip in with the young families
and old couples
i’ve never been here without my mother
(Purple Sensation Ornamental Onion)
i swim through the air here
think of how many free places there are
to hide around this sunkissed city
in this sweatsoaked thundertouched town
(Pyramidal Corneliancherry Dogwood)
the bricks in the pathways bear names
of dead humans i don’t know
but i thank them for this place
with a splash through the puddles
(Bronze Wave Coralbells)
algae grows thick and bright
on the surface of the pond
i lean over it and fantasize
about diving in head-first
but the same families i walked in with
have circled around to meet me here
and i keep seeing them as i wade
through the arboretum
(Popcorn Cassia)
the plants here have names like Ruby Star Milkweed
Purple Lovegrass
Hot Lips Pink Turtlehead
Black Magic Chocolate Cosmos
Pineapple Sneezeweed
(Grey Owl Juniper)
i think i hear another thunderrumble
and my mom’s voice
in the sunstormy sky
but i turn the corner and it is no one i know
i turn to the hares in the tall grass
and ask them not to mention
they saw me
(Creeping Mazus)
the air is thick with heat and moisture
and fat flies
and slender birds chattering
to their new babies
i sneak through trails meant for toddlers
and the pines scratch my unshaven legs in protest
or in comfort
(Canary Bird Zinnia)
i sneeze and no one is there to say bless you
i get up from my bench below
the White Satin Birch and spot another plant:
Narcissus poeticus
(The Poet’s Daffodil)
i do a counter-clockwise roundabout
to circle a small statue
and think about
how i used to walk endlessly
around the maple tree in our backyard
and about how
they should not have let me
daydream so much as a child
(Illumination Periwinkle)
###
Mom, don’t you realize
Mom, did I wake you coming home last night?
It won’t happen again.
Didn’t you look a lot like me
when you were young
and sleepy?
Mom, don’t you realize
that every time you paint
the living room
it gets smaller?
Don’t get me wrong;
I know you love me.
You make me feel loved.
But you don’t make me feel like I’ve been bronzed
in love.
Mom, did I wake you coming home this morning?
It won’t happen again.
Mom, don’t you realize
Mom, did I wake you coming home last night?
It won’t happen again.
Didn’t you look a lot like me
when you were young
and sleepy?
Mom, don’t you realize
that every time you paint
the living room
it gets smaller?
Don’t get me wrong;
I know you love me.
You make me feel loved.
But you don’t make me feel like I’ve been bronzed
in love.
Mom, did I wake you coming home this morning?
It won’t happen again.
###
June 20th, 2019. Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina.
The hills are the hunched sleeping backs
Of many-legged animals
We are so far up
The clouds don’t have far to descend
To dance with us
It seems like no human could ever
Exist on such a mountain
And yet here we are
Driving through a light patch
On a spotted cow’s back
June 20th, 2019. Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina.
The hills are the hunched sleeping backs
Of many-legged animals
We are so far up
The clouds don’t have far to descend
To dance with us
It seems like no human could ever
Exist on such a mountain
And yet here we are
Driving through a light patch
On a spotted cow’s back
###
Hospital Gown
NURSE
Doctor, who is that girl in the hospital gown?
DOCTOR
Well, Nurse, that’s the girl who thought too hard. You see, longing hijacked her in her room one evening and she started to philosophize. She thought about the universe so much it made her head and heart ache in equal parts. It was her parents who brought her in. When I first saw her she wouldn’t stop repeating that line. I can still hear her raving in my ear sometimes. The unexamined life is not worth living.
NURSE
Doctor, what did you do?
DOCTOR
I asked her what she meant. She told me all her friends and family made her want to scream. She told me she wanted to drive to a place that no one knows, some unknown place where the air itself is made of shadows. A place for hiding. She said we’d never find her there. She said she’d make sure it was the last place we’d think to look.
NURSE
Here she comes. What will she do?
PATIENT
Beware the barrenness of a busy life.
DOCTOR
What do you need, sweetheart?
PATIENT
I pray Thee, O God, that I may be beautiful within.
NURSE
Honey, you are beautiful.
PATIENT
In all of us, even in good men, there is a lawless wild-beast nature, which peers out in sleep.
DOCTOR
You’d like to go to bed now? Your room is over there, my dear.
PATIENT
The greatest blessing granted to mankind comes by way of madness, which is a divine gift.
NURSE
I understand, honey. It happens to me, too. Longing sometimes runs up behind me on the sidewalk and leaps onto my back, wrapping her arms around my neck. But you need to stop thinking so hard. It’s not good for you.
PATIENT
I am only just scratching the surface.
NURSE
Oh, there she goes.
DOCTOR
Now you see, Nurse. That’s the girl who loves the world too much.
Hospital Gown
NURSE
Doctor, who is that girl in the hospital gown?
DOCTOR
Well, Nurse, that’s the girl who thought too hard. You see, longing hijacked her in her room one evening and she started to philosophize. She thought about the universe so much it made her head and heart ache in equal parts. It was her parents who brought her in. When I first saw her she wouldn’t stop repeating that line. I can still hear her raving in my ear sometimes. The unexamined life is not worth living.
NURSE
Doctor, what did you do?
DOCTOR
I asked her what she meant. She told me all her friends and family made her want to scream. She told me she wanted to drive to a place that no one knows, some unknown place where the air itself is made of shadows. A place for hiding. She said we’d never find her there. She said she’d make sure it was the last place we’d think to look.
NURSE
Here she comes. What will she do?
PATIENT
Beware the barrenness of a busy life.
DOCTOR
What do you need, sweetheart?
PATIENT
I pray Thee, O God, that I may be beautiful within.
NURSE
Honey, you are beautiful.
PATIENT
In all of us, even in good men, there is a lawless wild-beast nature, which peers out in sleep.
DOCTOR
You’d like to go to bed now? Your room is over there, my dear.
PATIENT
The greatest blessing granted to mankind comes by way of madness, which is a divine gift.
NURSE
I understand, honey. It happens to me, too. Longing sometimes runs up behind me on the sidewalk and leaps onto my back, wrapping her arms around my neck. But you need to stop thinking so hard. It’s not good for you.
PATIENT
I am only just scratching the surface.
NURSE
Oh, there she goes.
DOCTOR
Now you see, Nurse. That’s the girl who loves the world too much.
###
Nice to meet you.
When I meet God, I’ll hope
he doesn’t greet me
as a man greets a spider.
When I meet God, I’ll say:
“Be not afraid
of my mortality.”
When I meet God, I’ll ask:
“Are you jealous?”
When I meet God, he’ll tell me
he created humans so
they might one day
rise up from the mud
he put us in
and answer a question:
“What is the meaning of it?”
When I meet God, I’ll get to tell him
my theory:
“Life, like poetry, requires each to create
our own meaning.”
Nice to meet you.
When I meet God, I’ll hope
he doesn’t greet me
as a man greets a spider.
When I meet God, I’ll say:
“Be not afraid
of my mortality.”
When I meet God, I’ll ask:
“Are you jealous?”
When I meet God, he’ll tell me
he created humans so
they might one day
rise up from the mud
he put us in
and answer a question:
“What is the meaning of it?”
When I meet God, I’ll get to tell him
my theory:
“Life, like poetry, requires each to create
our own meaning.”
###
Burn my Letters when I die
Burn my Letters -- when I die --
Just Kidding -- Publish Them
Every last One -- if you can --
Let them Know me
Let them not Flounder
To find Meaning --
Let them not Speculate
On my Madness
Here I am for All to see --
The Witch in the Attic
Scribbling away -- Patching my Heart
To a White Sleeve
But then again --
We only study Dickinson
To enjoy a Mystery
Worth solving
Burn my Letters when I die
Burn my Letters -- when I die --
Just Kidding -- Publish Them
Every last One -- if you can --
Let them Know me
Let them not Flounder
To find Meaning --
Let them not Speculate
On my Madness
Here I am for All to see --
The Witch in the Attic
Scribbling away -- Patching my Heart
To a White Sleeve
But then again --
We only study Dickinson
To enjoy a Mystery
Worth solving
###
HAUNTING
We are forbidden
yet inevitable,
like speeding down Monona Drive
at 2am.
We are begging
like blinking yellow lights
and empty road.
We taste like Halloween night
and Easter morning:
Delightfully sweet
and a little pagan.
But we are two dancers
who never learned how to lead.
There are no moves left to make
unless we overturn the board.
And all around us
people are walking around with open wounds,
their chests pinned open
like autopsy table residents.
The winter blows right through them
and they don’t feel the cold.
Their inner organs collect dust,
leaves, and twigs.
Stray bird feathers.
Flies and gnats and cobwebs.
Isn’t it beautiful?
That could be us.
We could sink our teeth into the sky
and feel the shake of it in our entire skulls.
No, listen:
Shall I compare thee to a winter solstice?
Whenever I see you
I know things will grow brighter soon.
What’s it like to overhear your laugh?
Ask an angel what it’s like to listen
to the demands of God
and he will give you half the answer.
And, listen:
Our love will scare people.
My heat is not enough to cauterize your wound,
and I’m still in the process of learning
that love is a double-surrender,
not a robbery, but --
Our love will scare people.
Our love will haunt the universe.
HAUNTING
We are forbidden
yet inevitable,
like speeding down Monona Drive
at 2am.
We are begging
like blinking yellow lights
and empty road.
We taste like Halloween night
and Easter morning:
Delightfully sweet
and a little pagan.
But we are two dancers
who never learned how to lead.
There are no moves left to make
unless we overturn the board.
And all around us
people are walking around with open wounds,
their chests pinned open
like autopsy table residents.
The winter blows right through them
and they don’t feel the cold.
Their inner organs collect dust,
leaves, and twigs.
Stray bird feathers.
Flies and gnats and cobwebs.
Isn’t it beautiful?
That could be us.
We could sink our teeth into the sky
and feel the shake of it in our entire skulls.
No, listen:
Shall I compare thee to a winter solstice?
Whenever I see you
I know things will grow brighter soon.
What’s it like to overhear your laugh?
Ask an angel what it’s like to listen
to the demands of God
and he will give you half the answer.
And, listen:
Our love will scare people.
My heat is not enough to cauterize your wound,
and I’m still in the process of learning
that love is a double-surrender,
not a robbery, but --
Our love will scare people.
Our love will haunt the universe.
###
Lyle’s Pub on the Night of a Cancelled Event
My friend texts me
the event was moved
to next week
But I’m already down here
tonight
And I am so fond of secret, unknown places
Places where no one will find me
I am so fond of empty places
with dark corners
that swallow me up
Places with a single can of root beer
on a shelf under the bar
near a box of cherry Cokes
and a few Reese’s peanut butter eggs
which will all expire later this year
I am so fond of places that urge me
to drink and feed on them
but give me the feeling that if I dared consume
I would not be allowed to return home
I am so fond of places that whisper
with voices
seeping through the walls and ceiling
Places that make me wonder
if I am hearing the rest of the building
or the memories
Places that make me feel
as if I’m trespassing
and welcomed home
in the same breath
I am so fond of places that hum
with leftover energy
and places that make me ask
what is living in the vents above my head?
I am so fond of places in which time stops
I am so fond of places that remind me
of impermanence
I am so fond of places
that would steal my voice from me
if I spoke aloud and broke
the silence of the room
and if I were to try taking a souvenir
it would crumble to dust in my hands
as I crossed the threshold
to leave
Lyle’s Pub on the Night of a Cancelled Event
My friend texts me
the event was moved
to next week
But I’m already down here
tonight
And I am so fond of secret, unknown places
Places where no one will find me
I am so fond of empty places
with dark corners
that swallow me up
Places with a single can of root beer
on a shelf under the bar
near a box of cherry Cokes
and a few Reese’s peanut butter eggs
which will all expire later this year
I am so fond of places that urge me
to drink and feed on them
but give me the feeling that if I dared consume
I would not be allowed to return home
I am so fond of places that whisper
with voices
seeping through the walls and ceiling
Places that make me wonder
if I am hearing the rest of the building
or the memories
Places that make me feel
as if I’m trespassing
and welcomed home
in the same breath
I am so fond of places that hum
with leftover energy
and places that make me ask
what is living in the vents above my head?
I am so fond of places in which time stops
I am so fond of places that remind me
of impermanence
I am so fond of places
that would steal my voice from me
if I spoke aloud and broke
the silence of the room
and if I were to try taking a souvenir
it would crumble to dust in my hands
as I crossed the threshold
to leave
###
SNEAKING
i have an ugly confession to make
no
not ugly
I have a sneaking suspicion
that we are all more beautiful
than we were led to believe.
this is the most beautiful
I’ve felt in my entire life
and I do not intend on slowing
down anytime soon.
SNEAKING
i have an ugly confession to make
no
not ugly
I have a sneaking suspicion
that we are all more beautiful
than we were led to believe.
this is the most beautiful
I’ve felt in my entire life
and I do not intend on slowing
down anytime soon.
###
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the Grinnell College writers’ club and to my editors Hannah, Nathan, and John for helping me create my own meaning.
Finally, as always, thank you to my friends and family from both the isthmus and the prairie -- for howling back.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the Grinnell College writers’ club and to my editors Hannah, Nathan, and John for helping me create my own meaning.
Finally, as always, thank you to my friends and family from both the isthmus and the prairie -- for howling back.