after Servant
Rambles past ringlets, ruffles, rouge to you,
end of the queue, interviewed for the show,
television lady forgets your debut —
segment you are someone she chose to know.
Her fascinations are fleeting and slight,
provincially dressed princess one night. Lives
she catalogues on oak shelves in plain sight.
Decades of ingenues in her archives,
December 19th, 2020
is unavailable in stores. Believes
in Christmas trees, Taylor Swift Evermore
with little distinction between the motifs —
cute aesthetics without fealty sworn.
Like dollhouses dissected their families, some
pink plastic posed preternaturally
replacing puritans overcome
with prayers, prurience, pageantry,
incest upstairs. A ripped Sunday school dress,
nothing beneath, long hair dyed forever noir,
fresh balsam wreath. Believer in kindness
and twinkling lights, blessings in boudoirs,
tempestuous nights. deprived of her breath.
Nothing is deeper than sex, not even death.
Oh The Places You’ll Work Bitch
And Not Be Free
for Britney
For Disney, Pepsi, Bela Karolyi
(who USA gymnastics cut ties with
in pedophile controversy at the
remote training space, national forest
woods), Star Search, Broadway, Rolling Stone
(at seventeen in push-up bra, baby
blue velveteen rabbit inside her own
small town bedroom.), the 24, maybe
more, varietals of perfume; Sbarro,
Nabisco, HBO (Emmy wins for
concert docu shows), and their fathers, though,
even if estranged, legalities restore
a golden gosling to its violent cage
without telephone, medicated rage.
Continue reading “Womannotated – Oh The Places You Will Work Bitch And Not Be Free”
November 1, 2020
On the side of a road atop a stump
you seem cinched in by sunshine while you are
slumped over a cellphone screen, bare goosebumped
décolleté. You ignore the people, cars.
You have something to say. Instrumental
Continue reading “Womannotated – Texting Shakespeare”
Saunter through snapdragons, the cobblestone path
inside his house, into a bath prepared
with Dead Sea salts by a sociopath—
Continue reading “Womannotated – Dead Sea”
September 19th, 2020:
Follow creek through the weeping trees until
it narrows and you cross with ease. Keep mum
along the rivulet cascading still
through thicket of thorns you will not succumb.
Continue reading “Womannotated – Weeping Trees”
August 22nd, 2020
A poet and her anxiety walk
into the woods — the person, thing and place
misunderstood for none of them can talk
adequately to explain how retraced steps
in dirt unburden pain. Though two depart
just one returns. Emaciated pines Continue reading “Womannotated – A Poet And Her Anxiety Walk Into The Woods”
August 16th, 2020
(Content warning: horror, death, suicide, some discussion of Midsommar with what could be considered general, mild spoilers)
A scent in twilight past breaths of the beast
who stalks the edges of forests on the
phalanges of feet, quickening heartbeats
of little lost girls, panting in pine trees
near the end of the world. Pale hirsute ear
you peer where the needles are bare. Eyes straight
ahead, mutter pieces of prayers. Fear
When you are raised by fundamentalists,
at slumber parties you resist. Approved-
of-girl, goes to your church, sly fantasist
whom no one hurts, her mom insists
you stay the night — both look sufficiently up-
tight, lacy collars, skirts below the knee.
Continue reading “Womannotated, Dirty Dancing Saves Your Life”
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 