At what age do children know how to use pockets?

You know that the elastic things
on the bands of your underwear
are flipping hard to pull off
without them bouncing back
and slapping your butt. It stings.

"Get Some Dental Floss!"

The note in my Marble Memo Pad reads as follows:
"Get some dental floss!"
I don't remember writing it and
I don't know what warranted the panic in my tone.
Was I eating steak? Or corn on the cob?
I haven't eaten cobbed corn in several years,
but I know this note isn't that old.
This must have been around the time when
I thought it was fun to walk around Wal-Mart's
health and beauty aisle, throwing toiletries in a
basket.
Maybe it's not panic, but sheer delight, in my tone.
I GOTTA "get some dental floss!" ASAP.
But there's still something uncharacteristic about
this note. I wrote it on a slant as well. An upward
slant that seems to shoot for the clouds.
I meant to write more important things in my
Marble Memo Pad. The slant is the growing
disappointment that reminds me of being a girl
who filled her purse with toys before leaving home.
Can't have an empty purse, now can you?
Did I ever "get some dental floss!"?
Only God remembers. I should ask him if I'm
still wanting for an answer.
Written on a slant, filling a whole page like a
teddy bear in a purse, it stands out blatantly.
I couldn't have forgotten this.
But somehow I did, I have blocked it out
and for good reason too.

Moby Dick

Did you see how dark it was?
Yes, I felt the impenetrable heaviness.
But did you see what it was wearing?
Clearly.
Twelve white boys drove by
bomblasting the same gangsta trip.
That doesn't seem like a word. Was it as dark as we're used to?
Probably not, but you know darkness.
Yes, I've felt the impenetrable heaviness
before.
All right then.
I saw the blackest eyes make odd
references to old pop.
How old?
Old enough.
How black are we talking?
Black enough. I also want to say something else about the eyes. . .
they mentioned something else.
Something about darkness?
They wouldn't dare. They don't know, not
like you and I do, about how
dark dark is.
Probably not.

"Cross Road Blues"

Just like Robert Johnson
I wanted to sell my soul to
The devil to return to you.
Well--- not just like Johnson.
I thought if I stood at
Main and Oak and played
The blues, it would lure
The devil and I’d return to
You. Just like Robert Johnson
I waited. Cars passed by and
Some honked. “Take your
Blues somewhere else!” no
One is appreciative of my
Corner quest. Did Johnson
Have to put up with this?
No one, least of all, the
Devil came to return me to
You. I was not asked for my
Soul, though I would have
Given it. If it would return
Me to you.

This is Why You Don’t Workshop with Ernest Hemingway.

He keeps bitching ‘bout my atrocious alliteration
Fuck you, I tell him and then I show
Him my cajones. He’s not impressed.
He says my rhyme and meter are mediocre
That I have no sense of adventure
Or heart. He calls me “girlie” and says something
Else equally sexist. I light a cigar for him
And ask him what to do about my last stanza.
“What would you do?” I ask him and then
Kiss his bearded cheek.

He’s a sucker for a feeble “girlie.”
He says to blow it all to hell and
Stop before it all gets to be too much.
With a flask of Jack in his Dungarees
And a shotgun in hand, he made it sound
Like I had nothing to work with.
Wildly weak with lacking alliteration,
My own flask of Jack was nearly
Empty before I called it quits.
Only then did he cut me some slack.
And I, being the affable girlie I am,
Took it whole-heartedly.

Satisfaction Guaranteed

It was a pre-buttered hand-job that
Went on longer than he bargained for.
In his wallet, there was only a ten spot.
Something that filled his belly would have
Been more practical, but how do you put a
Price on satisfaction?

Paperbacked

I want a classic story. I want it
Old and outdated. I want it
Mildly sexist. There must be
A girl, not a woman. She has to be
Young and pretty---big tits. There must be
Drama and duress. I’m going to want
Quicksand and pit vipers. I want a
A man, not a boy. He has to be
Tall and brunette w/dimples. He should be
Witty and uncivilized. He’s got to be
Obnoxious and thoroughly fuckable. I want
Tension that’s humid. I want some
Near death experiences. I need some
Danger and mosquitoes. Give me a
Friendly token native. There will be
Virgin sacrifices on alters. Therefore
Vine swinging should be used. Give me
Machismo. I want
Helplessness. I need
Predictability. I could use
Tragedy. I would like
Rebirth. I should have
Romance.