swing swang swung sung

space print summer romper
jade green iris
we played capture the flag in a sawdust summer
then again
in the hills of the north east
{wet grass smell}

as a political act you stood
on the pitcher's mound for 8 hours
swing swang swung sung
...yer cicada summer blues

later fireflies danced in bell jars
ghost stories round the fire
the house we all knew to stay away from
bruised knee tent posts
{citronella smell}

as a political act you climbed
the tallest tree and threw down a knotted rope
swing swang swung sung
...yer cicada summer blues

...
checkered print table cloth
plasticware dinner spread
we played a drinking game
that went nowhere
& remembered scents of summer

punk

you dont like quotes
derived from academic sources
that tell you what poetry's function is
or brechtian philosophy

you wrinkle your nose at readings
and ask your friend do u wanna go smoke a j in the alley instead
...that
this is all too sterile

when you read about a writing exercise
you shake yer head
and continue to write
no one's gonna tell you how to do it
or give you accolades when yer done

you get compared to bukowski
and scream that yer a woman who doesn't drink & that you hate cats
you get compared to slyvia plath
and shake yer head in disgust & say that yer out of instant coffee

lately youve been writing love letters to strangers that you never send
b/c someone has to do it

orange julius

when the patriarchy was getting her down
she went to the mall

...not to shop
b/c that was the part of the problem
but to have an orange julius & fried chicken

they were heaven
& though she knew processed foods were horrible for both her body
& the earth
she couldn't help but feel relaxed about the goings on in the world
in the food court between sips of heaven and bites of breading

...besides
she wanted autonomy over her own body
and if that meant drinking an orange juilius and eating chicken in cut offs
or holding her sister's 15 year old hand at the planned parenthood
...she would damned well do it

font face fascism

a college professor argued with a poetry student over fonts
the student preferred courier new:
each character uses the same amount of space, therefore making it the most egalitarian of all fonts
at this argument the professor crinkled her nose
and said she preferred arial...for no particular reason at all
to which the student screamed silently
...fascist

bringing nothing to the table

she brought nothing to the table
at the vegan potluck
even though katie had specifically requested her famous almond brownies
it was almost as bad as bringing something made with eggs or gelatin

...almost
...after all she was known around town as the "best vegan baker"

when asked all she did was shrug her shoulders
when pressed she invented an elaborate excuse
about excessive student loan debt and a shady ex gf
& this was enough to be forgiven
for not bringing anything to the table

StairMaster

at the gold's gym
in the locker room
monica told me she liked the StairMaster
she said it reminded her of her own futility
climbing erryday to nowhere
and that she didn't mind being reminded
b/c it produced the ass she'd always been looking for
she also confessed to me that she had 8 gym outfits
coordinated with her nikes
& that one time she had fucked her trainer in the spin class room
...even though he was sexy, she said, she still thought of her ex
so she's clmbing them stairs to nowhere
away from her past towards a nice ass

Susan

in austin texas Susan sat on the ground to watch the sunset
and a burning sensation occured between her thighs
and that's how Susan discovered that texas has fire ants
stood up quickly & brushed off many

...Susan was reminded of a heat rash she had between her thighs
after returning from the desert
and thought "wow
wayfarers and aviator ray bans have been ruined forever"

as she pushed her own up to the bridge of her nose

later Susan was on the greyhound bus to Las Vegas
while she tried to get some rest she felt a hand on her thigh
Susan twisted around, flicked out her pen knife
...wild eyed, and said "Hey you wanna get stabbed"
creep went white eyed...retracted his hand
& went back to pretending to read a dean koontz novel
Susan switched seats

Susan was in las vegas walking the strip
thought...it was a good thing she only gambled with her heart and not something that counted
           ...like money
desert lights of adult paradise reflected in her ray bans, homages to perfect cities and circuses
endless concrete steps...to heaven

NJ Prom

he wore his best ian curtis to the jr prom
she wore her best kim gordon
matching raspberry corsage pins
silver promise rings
'89 nissan sentra limousine

watched from the corner as the king and queen got crowned
taking sips from a flask hidden
in a bag as big as the atlantic
bumping molly in the bathroom

forgot(?) to book a room at seaside
with the rest of the kids
went under the bleachers instead
& talked until the sun came up
about dead writers and boys with eyeliner

spent the morning at the time to eat diner
tea & bagel toast /w butter and jam for her
onion rings & disco fries for him
went back to her mom's condo
& passed out on the couch to pbs
toes touching through socks

camping with hemingway

im with ernie hemingway
in the lonely boat
too bad im not a drunk
ive got the paddle
and ernies got a drink
we are on the delaware
and ernie tells me he hates the east coast
i shrug my shoulders
and ask, should we go tubing instead
he shrugs back and shakes his head no like a turtle in a woolen sweater
youre no fun ernie
and i rock the boat

later we were catching shad
and ernie was smoking
i said
hey do you really hate women
and he shrugged and did his turtle gesture
he said
natalie
humanity
is complicated and ugly and beautiful
men & women and everything else
at that moment he caught a fish and we put it into our bucket of 2 others
now 3
we were done fishing

ernie had another drink after insisting on putting up the tent
at the campfire after our meal of fish and potatoes
he looked stern
and less like a turtle in the camp fire light
he told me a story about spain
and then said
but everything is shit: anyway
it was my turn to do a turtle impression
and i said
you're no fun ernie

Light Fiction: Nancy

Tuesday

415 pm:

nancy browsed Zappo’s sale section

apathetically looking at boots named: Passion, Throne, Claudia, Lets Walk, Bullet, Peak

she particularly enjoyed Nines West's line of oh so desperate black boots: Too Late, Cashy, Platnium, Had It All...

was the owner desperate or the boot she wondered aloud

a co worker snapped her neck

what was that?

no ugh nothing says nancy

and it was back to the boots

more women’s names than others: Alison, Angie, Janessa, Daisy, Fatimah, Joan of Arctic™, Tiffany...

there was no nancy in the sale section, size 8, black boots

525 pm:

subway train ride home

no headphones

no book

trying not to catch a stranger’s eye, leaning hat head rested on Poly(methyl methacrylate), the same waterbottle

chasing a rat or was the rat chasing it? up and down the aisles up and down

a boy came through the doors, large home made sugar cookies in a cardboard box,

cookies a dollar

no money, sorry says nancy

tinny bass sounds, at least 3 different languages, whispers, shouts, stop at city hall, interchange of passengers bringing new conversations, wistful young couples, young professionals in overcoats and boots and tweed

nancy wonders what woman’s name is attached to another young woman’s boots with

a jaunty step off onto the platform of her destination