wyrdwind

Gone Girl

Well I was too skinny no matter how much I ate

Couldn’t seem to keep nothing on me

And I only sometimes showed up to class

And one morning I skipped

Because I was sharing my hot wings with bees

Crying on a frozen bench

Near zero temps

And I was just…fascinated

Pink nose, foggy breaths, crystal lashes

Random bees burrowing between my legs

Scooting under my pits

And I dared not make any move might crush them

They were so little

And I was so warm

Who gives a shit about Ancient Lit

See I was under the impression

Bees only ate pollen or whatever

Not…fried chicken

But then I thought, oh, well it’s winter

And as I sat there I looked out across campus

Blurred and streaking from saline scattering

Curling steam stacks and towering dormitories

Places I knew the insides only when empty

Gutted for maintenance

A particular property of the sunlight from the outside

I’d see all these rooms and imagine a life

All the life

.

Situational Awareness

I do attract a black man it must be said

What to expect when you’re a wasp waist tank

So I hadn’t thought anything of it

When a Nigerian man from the athletic department

Commented on my hair at one inch length

That used to reach long past my waist

Said that was a very great change at so young an age

Then he asked for what purpose I trained

For he’d noticed we had nearly identical routines

Save I pulled twice his weight

Exercises rather specific to his discipline

His area of expertise being track and field

For which our University’s athletes consistently ranked world class

But you know, I hadn’t considered survival a sport

So I was like This Creep Ass

Chasing equilibrium

Dodging through the woods and over rocky snowbanks at steep incline

So the scraggly stalkers would lose the trail or eat shit, get wrecked

One of them was my boss from work

Who used to text me blackout drunk at ungodly hours

Rambling unintelligible about being beautiful

Some nonsense howling at the moon

I pretended I never got them

I can trip a man’s reality testing so hard I deserve an Oscar

You live in another world without a car

And the wrong side of town is all you can afford

Men don’t take no for an answer

The barest kindness is consent

A woman alone in and of herself is an invitation

Never let them see where you live

Better to be called a Fucking Bitch than raped or dead

Oh, no reason I said

I’m just passionate about…fitness

You know I’d dyed it to match

My waterproof eyeliner, Judo tested

Shades of pomegranate

Blood red

.

Maiden Flight

At practice I’d do the chest crawl with two other girls on my back

A drill which trains you to maintain driving pressure on an opponent

And henceforth in the wild there was always a chance

One or more of them would come running from nowhere

And jump to wrap her legs around my waist or perch on my dips

By way of friendly greeting

Of course they were musicians

Slender as baby birds

Except for that one cellist, Jesus Christ

Fairly confident I’d stick their landing

As one time the boys were roughhousing

And I took a stinky body to my shoulders so the smaller girl wouldn’t get hurt

By “smaller” I mean less muscular

Anyways, I stood and pitched that 200 lb moron into a wall after dragging him up by the hair

A sharp turn from my habitual hard defense

I do have a temper it must be said

But boys will usually take it on the chin

Especially if you fire off one liners as you land hits

And all the other boys laugh

No, I wasn’t scolded, received no reprimand

Our coach was Irish

Sometimes I’d come out for their gigs

Or they’d sneak me into the overhead

Looking down over a ballet orchestra

Just hold this camera and act like you belong

No one will question it

We all could have been such close friends

If Battery Low weren’t my default setting

Demurring invitations

A six foot pile of snow I kept shaded on my balcony

A hairless rat I kept in a giant birdcage

(Pet store, dumpster salvage)

His name was Winston and he loved music

I built him a bright city out of tea boxes and cotton balls

Booped his nose with my nose

Held his little people hands

Just me and him

It was lovely while it lasted

.

Night Out

I need heavy bass

Some kinda ethnic industrial melody complex

A glottal leitmotif pacing hungrily

Catacombs cavernous and grungy

Low lit honeyed hypnotic

Ancient lilting caress

Distant incantation

Grazing lips and gothic arches

Closed eyes

Lanced with vibrato strings

Sidewinding flight

Come to me wearing white

A raspy finishing sweetness

Softly pattering percussion while fingerpicked

On the same instrument

Stripped back

Well it’s the spirit and the journey of a thing

And so men can’t dance with me

What I am they cannot grasp

But many a maid and matron manage

Intuit well enough my temperament

You always beckon the oldest first

That’s about respect

Acknowledge she’s still got it

Sets the tone for the evening

The shy ones gotta ride your hips for a bit

Maybe take some drink

Rocking any given babe on the ocean

See in order to catch the rhythm

She’s gotta feel safe

Supported

We’re all just creatures here

Now you get nasty on your best girls

I’m talking whole ass beat drop athletic

Real low

Hands in the hair, brush the decolletage

Some lip syncing performance if the song’s good

Get ’em properly riled up

Do a thigh tight one arm trust fall

Bow grind back and forth with a malevolence

Spine twisting endurance, odd angles

Just a lil exorcist

Males need to understand there’s no use for them

Clock danger at a distance

Save good eats for last

Herbaceous butter slicked carbohydrates

Cheese and sour cream and chives and garlic

Perhaps a marinara or a curry

Or fuck it a whole rack of ribs

Center tabled ravage royale

The real reason we wear stretchy dress

Unsubtly sneak through the door on your sea legs

Numb with exhaustion and endorphins

Now here’s where a man might come in so blessed

Some soft-spoken introvert tucked up in the nest

Half dressed like he’s ready for bed

Grandpa glasses, fiddling with shit

Playing with his toys

What’s up nerd

(Affectionate)

I like your…pajama pants

Shy, awkward, and long suffering preferred

Pointedly permits my nuzzles and kisses ravenous

No sudden movements

Let him decide how he’s feeling

Don’t push

Then I take a shower hot enough to melt the flesh off Satan

I’m the big spoon regardless of size disparity

Bet you thought this was a solo routine

Who do you think wrote it for me?

.

Bioactive Compounds

This might seem hard to believe

But I remember every story anyone ever told me

In absolute earnest

Every bubbly monologue on a special interest

How to code a binary search engine

How Buddhism intersects with quantum physics

Dinosaurs are birds and the story of Optimus Prime

Talked to a guy outside a taiko performance

One thing led to another

I said I used to get so excited when there was food in the fridge

That I’d stay up

And eat everything in the produce drawer at 1am

All Of It

Then get the whippins and the shits

No regrets

He said his mom was so poor after his dad left

She put fruit in his stocking at Christmas

And I was like that’s fair Fruit Is Good, what period are you from anyhow

And well he’d sat behind me all year in class

I just didn’t notice

He was quiet and I was surrounded by the loudest possible circus of boys—

If he’s got a Costco sized bottle of Ritalin on his computer desk

He’s probably one of mine—

Or once I learned about black ops tactics and how snapping necks is all in the hips

How that last job left him years in a wheelchair

Until one morning he watched the sunlight break over his legs in bed

And he just stood up

Been walking ever since

So now he looks after his buddy’s widow, himself unmarried

One final mission

For what it’s worth

Shit a man will tell you at 9pm in a craft store

Well if I see someone hiding at a house party

That’s who I talk to first

I’m a wallflower collector

The key is to assemble a plate of treats

Here are you hungry??

What are you reading?

There’s a kitty outside wanna see?

Anyways that’s how I met my apocalypse work mate

Hired on the same day

We used to fantasize about being trashman buddies

Driving around talking to No Bo Dy

Unsupervised

While breaking down 800 piece freight

Which we threw alone

Me on the truck and her on receiving

Not a god damn thing strapped down

Or properly packed to being with

We also fantasized about manning that one device

Something about a cargo ship that shits ice

To manually refreeze the icecaps and cool the planet

Man I fucking wish, fur jacket

Tits out, hairy legs, orcas, seals, and penguins

Save some fucking polar bears because I’m not a pussy bitch

I already gots to do everything myself

A Ny Where but here

Of course we were on Shitler’s List

Worst tasks, no help, fewest hours

One birthday my only present was an unwrapped shoebox full of spices

Some of which may or may not have been stolen

And you know what I fucking loved it

For a hot minute there she was clocking just one four hour shift every two weeks

Minimum wage

But she still purchased me a birthday present

A funny little anime figurine from her favorite show

This was Thorn Princess

The most dangerous assassin in the GARDEN organization

Superhuman strength and endurance

Extreme resistance to pain and poison

Power, speed, and precision

Superior close quarter combat skills

In her hands and object is a lethal projectile

And her primary weapon is a pair of golden stilettos

Which she throws with such velocity as can shatter a human skull

Destructive as cruise missiles

A murderous aura that chills combatants at deep range

And a split personality

An ordinary girl soft and sweet

Struggles to do normal things

But she keeps trying for her fake family’s sake

She only sometimes gets it right

And her fake daughter loves her dearly anyways

Fake daughter reads minds

Mama is scary

But Scary Mama is better than the orphanage

Fake daddy is an undercover spy

Each unaware of the other’s inner life

Approximate a husband and a wife

Two sides of the same side

Cloak and dagger in the night

Make believe giving way to real feeling

Fail at first to recognize in the sunlight

At last their own true likeness

A family in spite

.

Expose Her Therapy

We’d be dripping sweat from warmup drills

Even with A/C it’s Too Fucking Hot

All The Fucking Time

And boys being boys

Everybody needs to press foreheads and homogenize our stink

The Jiu-Jitsu team

And reckon it counts for something

That in a room full of cage fighting Heavy to Ultra Heavy Weights

On the open mat none of them could ever submit me

Hard defense

My own rules of engagement

I am not competitive, nobody worth a shit to impress—

Like who are you, Charlize Theron??—

For me this was one step above flow yoga

And oh the look on a bunny getting too big for her britches at the coach when they said

That with me they don’t hold back

Seen me nearly rip limb from socket when needled for aggression

With a reverse armbar I’d never been taught

Another guy more than twice my size couldn’t speak for a month

Lost consciousness before he could think to respond

When my guillotine cut through too quick

Killer reflexes

See boys are plenty sensitive

They know who can take what, how much

Rolling is in fact calm and gentle

Everyone is highly attuned to the tap

As differentiated from the friendly pat

The rump whump

Release pressure from any situation

At a pin drop before damage is done

There must be trust

We’re quite literally up in each other’s business

The art of dangerously compromising positions

Back hair, pimples and protein farts

We roll in any condition

Age, heartbreak, cancer, fatigue or injury

Hence the term “leave it all on the mats”

Nobody likes an upstart rooster

Puffed and shoulders square like he’s got something to prove

When his balls dropped maybe ten years ago

Still wet with afterbirth

Ain’t a race son, it’s a marathon

You don’t get a second set of knees if you blow those ones

Acting like you got a landlord and a baby daddy don’t pay child support

Some of us have real jobs

Actual problems

Holes in the floors and walls at home

What’s a little CPTSD between friends

Thousand yard stares in dingy public bathrooms

Standing in the rainbow ditsy floral section still as a weeping stone

After being viciously disparaged in front of customers

And admonished for wearing respectable clothes (again, again)

Regardless of what the handbook says

Everything is always unacceptable

Every shift is closing shift 10pm

The only one they haven’t forced to quit

Every day someone’s sobbing in the break room, tiny and windowless

Manager at last as the pandemic hits

Shit, call me Liam Neeson

Because I am a woman with a very particular set of skills

(In our state there are no enforceable worker protections)

(None whatsoever I need you to understand)

(It is the 1800s with Disneyland smiles and cell service)

Constantly cleaning up Jackson Pollock piss and shit from grown adults

Paid a pittance for less than half of that

Picking a pretty outfit just to spend all day with a book

Sometimes two or three book

Fixture at the only coffee shop with real chairs and a black interior

Midnights in the garden

Dancing alone at 2am in the spider-spangled Sisyphus kitchen

Imagine tatting enough webs together

Imagine casting a starlight sail into 50 mph winds

Staring at the door

Music

We don’t have viable resources or healthcare

Or even a living wage

This is America

Tell you what though

Getting smooshed stimulates the vagus nerve

Osss!

.

Somewhere

Speaking of

Homesickness stings worst on my birthday

Is it a person or a place?

I’m wearing a gauzy dress and a straw hat

Triple digit heat and wicked UV index

We’d split before first blush of dawn

Driven all the way up to an old desert mountain village

Heavily haunted, according to certain circles

Gossip at the watering hole

It clings to the side of a cliff

Half on decked stilts

All I wanna do is wander the residential neighborhood

My idea of a good time

Far below everyone else bends double gathering breath

I press ever onward along my mountain goat path

Past a striped roadblock warning off traffic

There’s a massive steel drainage pipe

Trickling beneath abandoned mossy mystery stairs into worn concrete

A stagnant watershed

Brilliant algae green

I spot a tiny patch of chain link gobbled by unkempt trees

Suggestion of a space

So I wiggle through sideways

Do my best not to step on or snap anybody

Excuse me ma’am, pardon me, ope hey

And it’s just…fascinating

An overgrown glade hidden from the street and plain sight

Some canopy secreted pocket dimension

Couldn’t possibly have guessed its size prior to this moment

Profuse with grasses, weeds, and wildflowers waist high

Thistles and hollyhock spires

Glittering and shivering in the dappled sunlight

Curiously hushed of birds in the late afternoon

Not a peep or a rustle or a chitter to be heard

Very strange

But I listen

Whispering and humming live wire

If existence itself had a sound, a fabric

Where is it coming from?

Oh my, that’s millions of bees in concert

Everywhere

Crawling all over my body now

Investigating my face, skirt, and arms

Unbothered

I wish you could’ve been there

.

@~^~

Because I feel like it matters, I arranged all of this after listening to Serenity Found by Lindsey Stirling. It unfurled like a silent montage of sorts in my head. Incidentally, whenever I write something like a battle or fight scene, I’m listening to something melodic or euphoric—for example I wrote the troll castle scene to the orchestral version of Colors by Halsey. But for romance and relations I’m listening to something dark and forbidding. So something like My Love Will Never Die by Claire Wyndham has an entirely different connotation when I sing it.

Anyways, if it weren’t obvious, I tense shift for emotional reasons because it more closely resembles how you organically interact with your memories and the permeable and cyclical nature of time itself. Especially as you utilize something like poetry or experimental short form as a tool for disarming triggers. You use flow to blend thought streams or change the course of a destructive pattern, or make beneficial connections, etc. Imagine throwing a pebble into the water and writing or speaking what you see.