extreme makeover: blog edition (in fiery letters)

the birthmark on my cheek is growing
to look more like a saddle; i spent a lot of money yesterday
but today is for poetry
(i've already seen that marlon brando movie
i was planning on watching today on TCM- it ends

in fire and a greenhouse
and two women, one resembling barbra streisand)

i thought i was lucky-
the bruise on my arm
it's yellow
and it's from shoe boxes
not from you grabbing my arm

i thought i was
lucky and that i had two TCM channels on my TV

but one was AMC
and i probably should have credited a mention
to Tennessee williams already in this poem

also: i like sally mann

the moral of the story is: don't get dehydrated and forget to eat when you're gonna be on stage

today i remembered that i left one of my favorite poetry books, david berman's actual air, at The Pinhook where the band i'm in played our most recent show.

i would have remembered it, had i not felt sick immediately after hopping off the stage. i sat in an old recliner and watched my band members take all the equipment down, thinking, i should help them and then thinking, i don't feel so good. i walked up to my boyfriend and told him so, and then proceeded to throw up all over the front seat of his car, three times, dry heaving into a trashbag like linda blair in the exorcist.

so that's pretty gross.

also, are any readers majoring in creative writing? i'm looking at hollins university but "i don't know".

here's a poem i'll leave with

i was going to bathe today, instead, this:

i only wore a bra today
so my breasts wouldn't lose their voice
in all the 'please'

i'm here beside the shower
like it's a bed where i loved someone, sleeping.
i thought that "getting in" meant "turning the water on", and i was probably right.

when i got dressed today.
it was like at dinner,
when i pick at my risotto
and it looks guilty on its way back to the kitchen