Made In Correspondence

My cat, beside me takes up 
Bed-space
And I say that although
It isn't true
Because it sounds better
Than sitting alone

A year or two of empty
Lunch table
Brown shit chairs
With cold legs
That stare back at you
Evil experience of your lunch-face

While me and my PMS Lucifer 
Lay comfortably on the edge
Feet curled up on the wood holding 
A lumpy mattress 
I replaced the blood sheets with ones
Simply blue

I walk often despite the heat
And no one thinks
I'm crazy
Because I don't know anyone to think

But all the same I go back
And forth
To his house much more
White and plastered and cold
Without us

Thankfully that means
We have to be together
To sit for hours out of classes
Wandering worlds of video games
And endless words we want meaning from
And endless DVDs unfinished 

Obsessing over Anakin Skywalker and
His new cat 
For short we call 
Pancake

Even she gets man-made material 
Stuck in her paws
Every now and then
And it was once only a correspondence

Out-Wandered

The stars are unaware of our meager existence 
Here in this plane  
In this realm 
All at once lying in a bed of soft, cushioned comfort
It does not matter if we, plural, you and I
Last a day, a month, a year

We teeter-totter on the edge of existing in this sweet manner
The children of rapture engulfed in bitter knowing-
Bitter joy that if all else fails
Our downfalls together will make for a few poems-
A few glimpses of art photographed into the pages

But for this hour in waking
Within the womb of sheets
Staring breathless, back tired against the wall
I will let you rest between the silent strokes of my pencil
For a chance to follow the meandering universe
Wasted and out-wandered
Amongst the myriad of arm-reaching stars

window dreaming

glaring stiff
out the window
away from the raincoats
deceiving

dangling my legs over 
contemplating jumping
but no one wants to see
my dress above my knees

lightning never 
struck me down-
pretty good at that
myself

not enough rods 
to feel safe
from this morbid persona

humiliate and mutate me
human words are all the same
existing in forms
fit like water
in various-shaped
containers 

light-bulb 
blinking overhead
trust falls mean
less than 
nothing

without breasts and 
smooth legs
I would just be a
brain 
in a puddle of unattractive
body fluid

flooding no one with 
lust
but my own twisted 
perception

and without human
nature
not one of us
would be climbing out of
sticky placenta 
so it should not 
pester me 

yet I walk away
balloons floating me
down 
in tangles
from the haze-inflicted
morning-after sky

catcher in the rye

you may grow up 
with a father who
beats 
right and wrong 
into 
your brain

you may think 
you understand 
the paths you deter upon

the paths unwind you
grind into your feet

but no one will tell you
that you are a whore
lusting on the people
the men and women
who feed all the same

the bottom of the stack
near
what are we 
looking for

too far down
to see the light