Write Backwards

Knife. tongue. scarred. lips.
will make this kiss
a little difficult
an ocean with a map
trying to fit into the mouth of a river
flow back words
and catch the fall
but there is a verbose boiling
in this bed
seven heart attacks
in the past four years
passing the past on
like it isn't vivid black
but it is like the first line
repeated as the last. knife.

You Are

My momma named me after
somebody on General Hospital
so I am a poet named Ashley, revolutionary
because you can't scrub the sun off my skin
they pull out their index
at the sight of me, Medusa's kin
their fear is man-made
and past its expiration date
but they still keep refilling their prescription
who is this fucked up pharmacist?
for them, there is venom in my pen
and I'll make them swallow this black licorice
if they speak of the other in colors
wrapped around crayons
that kids struggle to get off
and adults stick on their left breast pocket
they will lay on their labels
six feet deep in a sheet
I am fascinating, exotic,
a white girl dipped in chocolate?
a subject to be mastered
a sample under a microscope
someone should have told me to prepare
for this show
I tried to write a script
but all I could come up with
is this...

She even promised herself she wouldn't write about him

She is three weeks from lonely
her honey isn't as sweet as it use to be
she use to kind of sing her words
like Billie's vibrato over strings
you could slow dance
under a half moon to her metaphor
but that was before
now she has coal rimmed eyes
and nothing on her lips but smudged
disappointment
He made flowers drink heavily
and lightening bugs catch fire mid flight
but he will be remembered as nothing special
by her ink.

Run

Don't run
keep your wings buried in your skin
don't let them breathe
don't breathe
exhale a little when he sleeps
beat cracked cement with broken feet
apologize when your clumsy heart
bumps into his fixed mind
paint over his scarlet letter
handcuffed in tarnished gold rings
believe that you are too old to be new
don't run
you can't begin again,
when you started at the end.

Untitled

Kiss with caution
she has a gun locked behind her lips
tongue on trigger
and she's never missed
soiled fingernails indicate
she has been buried alive in hurt
there is dirt in her lungs
so she doesn't waste her words on men
he goes to church every Sunday
but he is sin coated in cinnamon
roams like lightning
and carries red paint chips
in his pocket
they ended with others
a month ago
but when the sun follows its shadow home
breathing is the soundtrack
hers, his
track 6, the interlude.

With Her Eyes Closed

Her window is in sight
its right above her cheekbone
but the fall is still too far
and she never forgets to set her alarm
but she has to write down her dreams
and if they happen
to visit during the day
like sun rays on smoke
they are evaporated by night
she has flames
flowing through her veins
but no fire escape
she is purple ribbon
wrapped in wire
she assigns numbers to her plans
that will one day involve kids,
a husband living in beige rooms
even though her favorite color
is green
she doesn't know the simple
the soft middle
hearts put back fast
and then stolen again
hers is stiff and still
the trees are the only ones
that understand
so when no one is looking
she whispers to them
can I leave with you?

Black Codes

Complete the census
Fill in the box
with a primary color
Secondary? no, you're other
so carry I.D.
Drink the kool-aid
but don't talk about drinking Kool-Aid
or eating chicken
not in front of them
and remember always
carry I.D, preferably the census
Curve your spine
picking tomatoes
for my fries
that someone skinny
will pretend to eat
so they can sell it back to
me
We need to compete
put up 5 more Burger Kings
in the same vicinity
between those liquor stores
but make sure there is
no place to buy
organic tomatoes
then call up your president
we need to check
his birth certificate.