POEM A DAY 2019

poop

i love poop
poop makes everything possible
everybody poops
at summer camp
we pooped in groups
sitting next to friends
as it should be
i love a good communal poop
chatting and giggling
as each poop plops below
even the word poop
i love
laughing about poop
and talking about pooping
i love that too
i pooped next to my boyfriend
when i brought him to a wedding
and it was in that pooping moment
that i knew
he was a keeper

i want to write
but i don't have a pen
i want to write
but the screen hurts my eyes
i want to write
but i have to pee
i want to write
but i can't focus
i want to write
but i have no ideas
i want to write
but i'm hungry
i want to write
but i'd rather watch tv
i want to write
but it's time to go
i want to write
but i have more excuses

school marm

when you play the role of villain
sometimes
it’s hard for the audience
to separate
the real you
from the villain

Dashing

I saw your husband today
but he was very preoccupied
with conversations about work
and when I saw him again I asked about your son
but he kept walking and didn’t respond
and his best friend and I stood in the stairwell
and laughed and joked that
he was too excited about work to think about family
And then his friend walked away too

Dye job

I dyed my hair blonde but it came out too brassy
so I put blue food coloring in it
and some of it is blonde and some is white or grey and some is kind of green and some is lavender and some is blue and some is the same

meditation roar

When he meditates
he roars
like literally
he carries the pillow into the bedroom
shuts the door
for a little more privacy
And with closed eyes
And a few deep breaths
This horrifying
sound emerges from his chest
When he meditates
he very literally
roars

sterling street station

blizzard morning
the day after the superbowl
i wore a dress not right for the weather,
the frozen sheets of sidewalk
me too under-dressed
i sat shivering on the subway bench
waiting for one train
with room enough
my feet beginning to sweat in snow boots
headphones in
not sure why i hadn't pulled out my book
not sure why this good looking man was
so insistent on talking to me

too tired for rain

i am tired for days
and there's rain
the best weather
for when you're not supposed to be sleeping
and really really
want to

His boxes

his boxes are everywhere
too tired to unpack
for days
i love his boxes here
they make it feel like home

the fragility of humanity in student #3

we spoke of lyrics
disguised as poetry
and your ideas of genius
and your mistaken Louis Vouitton imagery
i never thought i’d be in a classroom telling a white boy
that the line about my pussy being like a lake
that another bitch’s man’s face is swimming in
would be a better example
to analyze
and you agreed
saying no one else is writing lyrics like these
and i politely disagreed citing
the historic public dispute
of Nicki Minaj
and Lil Kim
that I heard about
during a powerpoint presentation
at a house party
in Brooklyn
here i am
dropping knowledge
on you kids
when i should know less about these false idols
writing songs about the new American Dream
another missed opportunity for deeper analysis
and i try not to think that they call you Fry for a reason

The fragility of humanity in student #2

how do you help one student
who is trying to help
all the students around her
whose lives are falling apart
and helping them means
she’s not helping herself
and she’s distracted and grumpy and
you’re scared to approach her
but you can’t just ignore her
even if that’s the easier thing to do
how do you help
without feeling sad or grumpy or angry
yourself

Rembering to do a thing

if i don’t write a thing down
i will forget a thing
i learned this young
and began a system of pen notes
and reminders
on the back of my hand
even when smudged
it was a reminder of the thing
i would otherwise forget
when i became more adult
i abandoned my hand
for post it notes
and handwritten lists
on the fridge
and tiny notepads
taped to
my computer screen and keyboard and on my desk
then technology made more efficient to-do lists and reminders
that buzz and pop when you need them to
but today i went old school
taking my pen to my hand
smudged in the end
but still i remembered
to do the thing
and i did

Unknown

she met me five or six times
before she started to see me
and she told me
I don’t think you’re as happy as
you pretend to be
there’s someone else under there
and she was mostly right
when she said
be proactive in your life
make some choices
and I felt like crying
blocking out most of what she told me

but most people who know me
don’t see me
like she saw me
they don’t look at my hands
when I speak
to see how they move
they don’t look at my shoulders
when I listen
to see how much they turn
they don’t look in my eyes
when they speak
to see if I’m still there

they’ve known me for years
but they don’t really know me
how the few choices
I’ve made
have trapped me
in this body
in these relationships
in this apartment
in this job
in this city
unable to change anything about it

even she thinks she knows me now
that she’s somehow figured me out
but she doesn’t
and she didn’t

ghost of friendship past

on the coldest days
I sit alone on the couch
and wonder
what happened to me
what happened to the friends
I once had
I don’t know where they went
or why
I don’t know how to cultivate friendships
how to keep in touch
even with the ones who live close by
I wonder if
they sit alone and wonder
what happened to me
the friend they once had
where I went
or why

the problem with no

What if I said no
and that was just okay
What if I said no
and was never pressured to say yes
What if I said no
without feeling like I did something wrong
What if I said no
and you said, “I understand”
What if I said no
without feeling so fucking bad

the fragility of humanity in student #1

last Friday
he cursed at a teacher
today
he made a funny joke

Warm Bodies

it’s when we get under the covers
i realize how cold my feet are
rubbing them together doesn’t
create warmth fast enough
so
i turn myself sideways
to place my feet against yours
really upon yours
yours like
pressing against the perfectly tempered stone
of the living room fireplace
the house i grew up in
and your warmth runs through
me

poem #9

sometimes it seems
life is too easy
even when it feels hard
too boring
to take up space
writing this poem
what am i doing wrong?

unconventional spellings of Michelle

“Look at my hands and please don’t shoot me
Put down your guns and take your hands off me”

I heard a song I loved
and recorded part of it
about living with your hands up and dying
with the static of crowd murmurs in the background
and black and blue and black and blue—
I searched for the song
but can’t find it anywhere
and what did i do
to be so—
it seems to only exist on my subpar phone recording
would you push through
you could die too—
laying on the couch I am defeated
but still listening
over and over
wishing those poetic words were mine
I’d be so
I’d be so—

on the twelfth day after Christmas

it seems everyone but me
has taken down the tree
put the decorations away
but i’m not ready
not sure when i’ll ever be
this year i even bought a potted tree