GENUFLECTION

[a pathetic attempt at prose poetry]


hallowed be thy--

nine abandoned stories, a spiral staircase. breakfast. a city that at night looks real and painless. how sadness can percolate and precipitate regardless of situation and circumstance. get real drunk and sleep late. happy goddamn new year, no sunrise. an old sycamore in my nana and bubba's yard--peeling tree of mystery, the soft core of flesh, photosynthetic inner bark. the unknown. looks like maple leaves but. little three year old girl at the bar next to me drinking whole milk out of a plastic cup with a lid and straw cracking jokes i could never think of she makes everyone laugh hard and i want a child so bad sometimes that tree held something. so did the small strip of woods. the yew bushes as tall as three men with their red aril berries. staining my jean shorts. woke up early this morning for the first time in weeks. alone. something unspeakable and unknowable. century tree. put all your energy toward one thing and then give up, die. expended. another drunk girl tripping, accusing her boyfriend of pushing her. it's been so long what was i thinking? i had someone there to protect me? to take care of me? a $45.00 new year's eve. a longer nap than i've taken in months. a refound friendship. i'm doing nothing about any of them. three fingers and i always apologize when i shouldn't. unnecessary. i want to be a good listener but people keep asking me questions. what was it about that tree? that walk or two for coffee where ionie fell asleep in the stroller despite heavy traffic and was mistaken for my child one, two, three, four times. i never corrected any of them. another teenage mother gone bust. another heavy breast, rain cloud, fat rat. but we had such nice weather; but we had such a nice time. unappreciative. the basement. mistake #1: don't take anything for granted or granite. the street trees all lined up in a row. the huge chunks of ice floating in the dark ominous waters of lake michigan possibly more polluted than childhood summers, but not silent--dancing. red lipstick kisses. the petroleum bridge in millennium park. the huron river froze: i would ice skate / down it / do you own ice / skates no / but i have roller / blades no roller / blades allowed. they chopped all that shit down, sorry hon'. i always write with a slant. chalk another one up to misapprehension. or being too honest. a too honest mistake. i knocked the amp over. i dropped my mascara in the sink. it wasn't that important. at least i got midnight twice i was so confused. you're on the wrong clock darling. you are mistaken. what trajectory is my life headed along? irritation was not a factor. i always mean every word i write. sincerity. to a point, always an ending or a fading off. the ghostly border where truths blend with untruths. where i dread the fast falling of night because i have to wake up in the morning. i'm so scared i won't sleep. my body so sacred and sexualized down to the quick of my bones. it pushes the coffee, calciferous skeleton, stony coral, botany baby, just one more drink before we must go.