we wear the mask

Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)

We Wear the Mask

WE wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

mother of pearl

I am bringing in the lizard screen.

I am trying not to pray.

I swivel, recline, exhale.

I am the cool side of the pillow

on a steamy June night.

I am round and full like the moon.

I am loved by some, not all.

I am retraining my neural pathways.

I am early spring green.

I am an aching vessel.

I am a soft whimper.

A silty deep river

Searching for something.

I am mother of pearl.

I used to have a song written just for me.

I am a frayed bit of rope.

I am a starfish with a regenerating arm.

second chance summer

last night of giddiness

a day at the pool

between ocean and sky

a jet line strikes the air

memories of ninth grade

showing my pale young body

in cold water

kissing under a humid towel

amid the old people

scuffing dead skin from our heels

in front of the t.v.

brother and I

chasing e.s.p. thoughts

to the Whistle Stop

fried green tomatoes

meat

banana pudding

at the gas station the clerk

is pacing like a caged tiger

flipping long Indian locks

impact wrench hiccup

laughing to the brink

of no breath

laughing spreads like wind

they finally notice the family photo,

Conan's face pasted over Andy's

we laugh

and giggle

and squeal

one more pot of coffee

a punctuation mark

to end the holiday

night falls

Night falls

so I take speed and go to the gym.

The room is a mess

a static equilibrium.

Gold hairs jaunt across my forehead

nobody around to see it;

white teeth a shocking shade of clean,

no one around to taste them.

Back in this room

there are white walls

not four, but too many to count

and all this time

I’ve been like the autumn-fat squirrel

preparing for mock-death

saving for nothing.

And this room too small

to hold me this winter.

Finally on the verge of escape

but where to? how do I get there?

First thought-

a dead myth, knight in shining armor,

only keeps girls waiting

locked in salty honey traps.

Second thought-

to drink it off my mind

but that never worked

it only made it worse.

And it’s been such a comfortable life;

my nest has been feathered

my bottom has been patted

robed in luxurious civilization.

Just put in eight hours

with laughing faces

then come back to

wall-to-wall carpet

organic coffee and

fresh vegetables.

But it’s strangely unsatisfying, this life.

Suddenly the “I want” takes over

like a bee sting in the brain.

I want to scale mountains

I want to live in the desert

under a dry infinite sky

I want to stop eating

I want to drive to South America

covered with monster dragonflies

like Jack.

I want to shed this skin.

It’s all so contradictory,

every step unsure

a bear trap lies

just around all corners.

Last thought-

erase the “I want”

soothe the sting

of a million unfilled desires

to recognize the thought,

let it drift away-

a balloon, a train, a bird in flight.

long journey

in a dream I leave this world behind

leave behind my oral fixation

leave behind my sugar addiction

the sense of the mundane

hop on a train to a secret world

where humans are animals again

hair grows long as squid tentacles

everyone wears white

and lights lanterns at dusk

to keep the beasts at bay

I find you at the midway point

in a dim hotel hovel apartment

Illinois or Iowa or Indiana

some forsaken wind swept snow plain

an empty pool, cramped, transitory

we get on the subway without knowing the destination

hair like fishing pole rods held up in the rack

a deer is hit along the way and her mate lags with her

she drags her mangled back legs along

my heart spikes and shoots tears like fire

with a pearl memory from the other world

we make it

to the rough wooden ladders

hidden lanterns and candles stocked for survival

I think I'm pregnant but it doesn't matter

a small ceremony held high up on a ladder

then I put my head on your chest

your heart thumps in my ear

this is the right world

far away from the others

far away from chores bills gym parties work

nobody uses language; we can speak

but it holds no meaning

makes no sense

there's a grocery with pine nuts and oranges

but where did they come from?

nobody knows

nobody cares

and if we want we can take the train back

try to hold the secret like lantern's white flame

but its a long journey

it's okay

the moon glowers down
from her perch in space
on a cold cold night, 2008
the total lunar eclipse

a cosmic event outlines
our tiny spot in the universe
just a speck among specks
yet as broad as
this star-poked blanket
yet constructed from these
ancient materials:
stardust
moonrock
icecap

old moon face is nosing down
to check on us here
in 2008
just like she checked on Columbus
in 1492
just like she'll check in the future
when all this stuff
is long gone

my friends are connected by her concern
drawing circles in the sand
counting blessings
making plans
scheming on the Russian steppes

life is okay
miss moon reminds us
to be just a speck
bumping into other specks
then floating off
when it's time to float
like rain
like snowmelt
like starlight
like earth's shadow passing
between worlds

hong kong airport smokers lounge

Airport smokers lounge

the last gasp of humanity

a cloudy glass fishbowl.

Dregs of the lonely,

we’ve all been snookered.

Smoldering grey walls

no children allowed

Here

In the bowels of hell.

Death’s fast track,

not laughing in the face

of fate

But slowly drowning

suffocating

image

an addiction

A filthy stupidity

Last one ever.

patron saint of the pathetic

Pressing my lips together

I wait.

Count the minutes down

but they never turn to hours

they stand still.

If patience is a virtue

then I must be the holiest woman around,

patron saint of the pathetic,

our lady of the long hours.

I call on the only God I know-

circumstance, happenstance, chance.

He only listens to

certain prayers and doles out

fickle blessings.

the saddest kids

J counted the numbers

Behind everything she ate.

She checked her hipbones

To see if they poked past her tummy.

If they did, she won.

H stuck a pushpin

Deep in her leg.

Just to look at the blood

To see that she was alive.

D sat in the basement

In front of a screen

In the dark.

The characters moved around

Winning pretend battles.

P sat in the back of the room

The farthest corner.

He picked at the loose skin

On his pink fleshy thumb,

Downcast eyes

Silent tongue.

S lay in bed at night, wanting

Needing to sink down in the bed

To disappear.

Every time she heard a noise

in the hall, just beyond the door

She prayed he’d leave her alone.

N set a fire in the yard

Behind the shed.

Just so somebody would notice.

Then she’d pretend

She didn’t do it.

T snuck some vodka

In his orange juice bottle

On the bus

In the morning.

He didn’t brag about it

Like some kids.

the female mind

Back to television,

A fleeting impression.

The talking head says

“Buying cough syrup

may be more difficult”

The lonely man screams

“The female mind is

a bee’s hive.”

Her hair is

a bird’s nest, her words

the sting of the asp.

Honey drips from her tongue.

Lightning darts from her

Splintered eyes.

A world revolves around her,

Life flows within her.

bite mark

saw a girl with a bite mark on her cheek today;

thought,

That could be me [the yellow sticky red pus eye shoulder sore]

heard a girl think she was falling in love with a stranger today;

thought,

That could be me [the lost screams of a concrete mental ward,

over counters in and out of hospitals]

sensed a girl today old and out to pasture, desperate for attention;

thought,

That could be me [work, sedated by a chunk a span in front of the

ominous ominbox, work, sedated by a potato]

colorado grass

the summer unfolded like a shell around a pearl

life so easy it just unwinds mystery, rolling

I thought you were asleep, I set the alarm

but you roll over and press your face into mine

sweet kisses scrunched up into the pillow

long days into long nights

unrestrained and wild and so easy

so easy

breathing in breathing out, chanting

flying over oceans, in beds not alone

laughing uncontrolled like hiccups

barely thinking

so happy