Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Please come: it'll be a riot!

Possibly also funny!

April 6, 8PM
Cheryl B. Presents:
The Poetry Vs Comedy Variety Show
PVC (Poetry Vs Comedy) is neither an ordinary poetry slam nor a stand-up comedy
show. The Poetry Vs Comedy Variety Show is a battle of wits and rhymes where the
stanzas and the stand-up collide.

Emcee: Carolyn Castiglia (Caroline's)

Claudia Alick (HBO's Def Poetry Jam)
Christine Hamm (Author, The Animal Husband, Dancing Girl Press)
Andy Horwitz (WYSIWYG Talent Show)

Dan Allen (Comedy Central's Premium Blend)
Kelli Dunham (Penn and Teller's Bullshit)
Lianne Stokes (Brutal Honesty)

Musical Guest: Adira Amram (Chicks and Giggles)

Galapagos Arts Space
70 N. 6th St.
Williamsburg, Brooklyn
L Train to Bedford Ave.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

The Tiny Gnats of Memory

will cling to us if we’ve entered their house, ever
steal our soup, knock glasses of water
to the floor
tug our hair when we sleep
leave footprints in milk down the
make the cat screech and disappear
are silent and stare
hang our shirts upside down, dip our
shoes in the toilet
refuse to tell us their names
tell us nothing but their names
breathe like donkeys, stomp on our roofs
sometimes need us to open the door,
sometimes not
hide in the refrigerator
eat meat and are angry
leave bite marks
are only hungry when we’re alone
pour gasoline in our shampoo, and ask us, later,
for a light

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

I know I don't write non-poetry stuff here very often, but I just had to shout about this -- I got into the Ph.D. program at Drew University, plus a full tuition scholarship, plus extra funds. I'm going to be studying the post-war female poets, Plath, Sexton, Bishop, etc. and gender studies.

I am just so shocked. So ecstatic-- so .... wow.

You who wrote my recommendations are going to get personal thanks very soon.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

new poem -- some of you might be noticing a theme here--

The Secrets to a Happy Marriage

Have clear boundaries

When my husband shits in the shower and spreads it all over the bathroom, I spray him with the spray bottle and say “no” sharply. He ignores me and scratches behind his ear until I grab his foot to stop him. I’d threaten to withhold his chow, but we’re beyond that.

Take responsibility for your own actions

I have a problem in that I don’t think anything really exists until I can put it in my mouth. I’ve scalded my tongue on at least ten occasions. There was an incident with a meteorite, then a president. I am still on parole. I got a six-month extension because my husband tried to bite an FBI agent.

Try the direct approach with your mate

I would like a fistful of flowers, please.
No, put them here on my collarbone.
Don’t kiss me, no, I haven’t brushed
my teeth yet. But you may kiss the boil.

Don’t be afraid to follow your dreams

Last night I dreamt I was standing naked in room piled with books. There were puddles of milk on the ceiling. Then I woke up and I was standing naked on my husband’s chest.

Sharing is key

Sometimes I let him share the bed with me, as long as he stays at the foot. If he farts too much, I lock him in the bathroom. I play easy-listening music so I don’t have to hear him howl. My husband likes to go for walks with me in the rain, but when we get back to the apartment he shakes himself and the kitchen gets covered with mud.

Recognize the importance of communication

Sometimes I imagine he still speaks to me. If only I hadn’t sewn his tongue to our daughter. She sprouted wings and jumped out a window when she was six. I never checked to see how she landed. I avoid that window now.

Most of all, celebrate the holidays together

On Valentine’s Day, I go to certain bars. It’s time I started dating again; my husband’s getting lonely cooped up in the apartment all day by himself. He gets into things, humps my shoes. No one’s responded to my personal ad yet, but I saw a few prospects at Starbucks. I’m looking for a man or woman who easily converts into a rabbit.

Monday, March 13, 2006

My Friend Flicka

two girls best friends live out in the hills
near San Francisco they wear dirty t-shirts
and flip flops they slouch everywhere and
give people the evil eye they are unable to sit
up straight prop their dusty feet on the armrests
and are frequently upside down and restless
they nag each other about their collections of
plastic horses argue about whose is better
one girl’s bigger and older in secret she
feels awkward next to the smaller girl admires
the way her ribs show
they braid each other’s long greasy blond hair
all the time walk endlessly up and down the hill
between their two houses sometimes they stop
and sit at the edge of the road throw pebbles
at each other and collect pine cones
one is saving up for a saddle one has a pool
they draw horses on their notebooks horses on
their mirrors their magic markers smell like
grape or bubble gum
there is no one to watch them when they are in the
pool sometimes when theyare roasting in their bikinis
on towels they talk very slowly and then fall asleep
later they will forget what was said
when no one’s looking they fight and bite each other
deny it all later they smell like hay and rotten apples
refuse to shower or use soap chlorine turns their hair
spring green
when their parents aren’t home they whisper and take
vodka & rum from the cupboard next to the kitchen
they sip it in juice glasses and make faces
when they are drunk they get headaches
and kiss each other
to practice for boys
I stole a line from the last one.

The Reluctant Bride

I’m a virgin on my wedding day
wearing 23 shades of white

my hair the color of a spotlight
I have the bluest eyes you’ll ever see
on the subway I’m twelve

when I’m alone I speak to pigeons
my skin the color of the city before it rains
yellow that is almost green almost tangible

I go barefoot everywhere

my mother sold me to a 90 year-old
millionaire in Buenos Aires

she advertised me on Ebay
guaranteed my blood reversed aging

she let me choose my wedding dress yesterday
my train is raw silk and spans two acres

she bought the high heels
I’m free until noon
there’s a spiral staircase in my heart
the stairs made of phoenix wings
and mastodon bones

I’ll climb out this window
the pigeons will come with me and the tiger
and the crack addict who kissed my hand
on the corner of Broadway

there’s some other city there
some city just like this one but
people are barefoot
and it rains every day at four
it’s a sweet rain and soft

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Good news! Amy King of MiPOesias solicited a submission from me; I'm so flattered.

Every Mother’s Worst Fear

when my mother was pregnant with me
she craved a pound of strawberries every day
her breast milk turned pink

she sold her milk to herbalists in Chinatown
for 100 dollars an ounce
she bought a silk stroller
embroidered with pictures of Elmo

she dreamt I had a tail
she couldn’t stop crying

meteors hit the Ukraine
the night I was born
the craters still glow green
during the winter

my first word was no
before I could walk I liked to sit quietly
in the corner facing the wall
and climb into the ceiling
when no one was looking
mother knocked me down with a broom

I go barefoot everywhere
holes sometimes appear
in the sidewalk where I place my feet

Thursday, March 09, 2006

provide your own captions

Okay, some of these might have been taken in New Mexico.

That's enough, really. Oh, you want more?

Just go to my flickr account for more.