sea surges and shutdown sutures: hurricane sandy

the photographs are barren, the shores bleak and gray
the street signs and bridges battered with salty spray.
are you safe with family or friends, or are you alone
with your faith, the faith you've whittled to the bone?

"if somehow i'm killed or die like you worry, oh, well," you've steeled:
"don't miss me. don't wonder where i am. it's done." oh, the panic i feel.

delicate dances into delicate balances

the first time you slapped me my entire life blanched icy numb
and to say that i haven't recovered, that i've been struck dumb...
that's nowhere near a stretch. in fact
i've gone rubbery and barely intact.
i've painted over entire panels of us to keep myself aboveground
but huge bubbles of me have popped and subsequently drowned.

was it because you didn't want her to see
that you'd been locking lips with me?

there's never been anything that's broken my snarky laugh
despite all the times my heart and life have broken in half--
not until after we met. in fact
the reason i'm alive? i redact.
do you remember when you said, "if i ever say you're worthless
just leave me, ignore me, recognize that i'm an asshole and a mess"?

will you ever have the guts to honestly see
you've been a lion, cowardly?

when you stroked my cheeks and moaned, "oh, you look so fucking beautiful...
the lipstick you're wearing matches your outfit, pouts your lips full!"
and then bruised my lips when you smacked
them against my teeth, well, in fact
that hurt more than the first time i had sex, which had my panties crammed
into my dry vagina, and my senses and sensibilities (like his penis) jammed.

i actually really love you. can't you see
the consternation you've caused me?

that you did it again and again  is something i can't parse;
steeling myself against you just kept shattering my faint heart.
sometimes you kissed me against the fact
my lips and lipstick were well-matched.
then you'd thunder your line: "men don't wear lipstick!" quivering pissed,
cut my lip on my teeth, then passionately my denuded mouth kiss....

bleeding coast-to-coast nosedive

a flight of numbers higher than the heart can afford
gives in to giant uneasy slumber along third avenue.
when new york turns into throngs of december
i'll unpack alone cozy into a seedy bronx motel
with condoms lining the vending machines and moan:
he has not collected me.

the loneliness stretches for all the miles in between.

illusions edge away reasonable doubt

my pain has begun to puff like the foam from caulk guns
construction and hard hats come off, utterly undone--
what lies asunder my last surrender fallen apart,
fragile life reconstructing 'round this, my determined heart
'round his chorizo and beans, caliente to bursting
orgasms while his heart hunts other women, thirsting
for my sex clearly lacks, removed tight from youth
wild happy women with metal in their skin and couth.

the pills did not do. i floated to a place i thought away
from singular horror: untrue heart lusting into the fray
but awoke, my earthly bits fanned to burning: the groin
resin cruz decided it's more fun to leave stunned! forlorn
awoke amid smothering piles of awkward knitting
cowboy booties and skull patterns with which i'm smitten
to the face of my little babe (i can't face will never be born)
venturing into crazytown, where i've never been before.

if only i'd never been raped all my time as a baby and girl...
then i wouldn't knit resin into the cruise of my purl.
i kissed away your tears more than once, your curls on my breast
stroked away your fears, never brought your poverty to jest
bloomed into tears at the demons screaming from your past
and opened my flowering orgasms to your velvet organ at last...
but, alas! the laughter stained with mayonnaise and laundromat
has left more sorrow than all the smiles you thrust into our laps.