A House of Snakes

-Dedicated to my mom

Cinderella lives in a house of snakes

The cinders come from her burning skin

Which festers and falls in flakes

From all the poison the house creates

Cinderella doesn’t sleep

The kissing tongues against her chin

Are laced with poison words to make her weep

As around her legs the snakes do sneak

Cinderella works in vain

Though the snakes are her new kin

They made her mother go insane

And locked her brother away in chains

Cinderella lives in a house of snakes

Lost in their lies but a will to escape

Badger

Light, love, life, relief

Sunlight streaming down the street

Burn the leaves, burn the light

Burn the girl too pure for sight

Hey girl what’s your number?

The teardrop leaves a shudder

Sight, shut, life, alive

Bottled butterflies again revived

Ask the hands, Ask the feet

Ask in a voice syrup sweet

Hey girl, lets get to know each other.

Run from that man who thinks he’s your lover.

In My Dream

Spirals form on a glassy green

Willows dip beneath the sea

And the dragonfly hums for me

The dry air cracks my hands and heels

Sun is hotter than what’s ideal

But the marble pagoda cools me

The voice of my mother whispers near

Birds chatter without fear

And the rustling wind settles me

Sweet lemonade and dusty moon cakes

Shrimp egg rolls, their greasy flakes

The sweet cookies she makes for me

The water lilies cared for so well

Jasmine from the teakettle

And the fresh breeze from the sea

Ars Poetica II: Orange Poetica

I’ve never eaten an orange

but I shiver at the thought

of seeing its

skin

peeled off

and all its juices leaking down my shirt

its bundled insides like

sacks

of flesh

being divided and divided again

and then bitten off—

it’s gross, don’t ask me why

I just think its wrong
to tear at an orange’s insides.

Ars Poetica I

A poem is:

            My foggy head,

            the struggle in

            the morning to get out of

            bed,

            wrinkled sheets and

            greasy bowls,

            the milky film that could turn into mold,

           

the cloudless sky,

            the burning sunlight

in my eye,

            the smell of bleach

            and soapy bowls
            the water that has banished the suspicious mold.