toxic tylenol
don’t guzzle by the mouthful
or you might find yourself
elsewhere
there’s a damp towel on the rack
toothpaste oozing into the sink
and the mirror shows reflections
not redemptions
we’ve got bandages for
bad things
hair dye
in case you need to skip town
pink pills
purple pills
and power
essential oils on the top shelf
for when you’re feeling groovy
and the bath water boils
emil nolde
and the dancing lady
go bananas in the background
it was a quiet kind of sadness
the small kind
that never fits in crowded spaces
the mother felt it
the daughter didn’t understand
so she played in the puddles
left over from last night's rain
watching her mother
with a soft curiosity
in turn her mother watched back
her daughter
so alive
twirling
hands flung up in the air
feet kicking up the water
every drop becoming a rainbow
scattered on the breeze
damp marks dotted the hem of
her skirt
from the water grew chrysanthemums
white as bone
stalks straight
trying desperately not to droop
so the mother cried dry tears
and her daughter became the water
and when the world then quieted
they took each other’s hands
one note in a repeated melody
behind them
as they went
on the asphalt
damp footprints were made
next to dry ones
their happiness
just big enough
to fit inside the toes
and so they walked home
SCENE 1
The theater is dark as the curtains rise on a solitary boy (FIGURE ONE) sitting at the bench of a piano that is center stage, facing sideways. When the curtain is halfway open the figure begins to play a sad melody. (Suggestion: Image-Autumn-Womb by Goldmund) This continues for a minute or two. At the minute mark another figure rises from one of the seats nearest to the stage. He(FIGURE TWO) walks up the steps of the stage slowly, coming from stage right, and goes to stand on the opposite side of the piano than FIGURE ONE. FIGURE TWO starts to walk around the piano in circles staring at FIGURE ONE, all the while the music plays.
FIGURE TWO
You always make me cry.
FIGURE ONE
(As he is playing) And you make my fingers blister.
FIGURE TWO
I have said sorry for that many a time.
FIGURE ONE
(Beat) I know.
FIGURE TWO comes over to where FIGURE...
Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020
there were weeds in that swimming pool
and they weren't green
they were dandelion fuzz
breaking apart
the bottom rung of the ladder
in the deep end that we climbed
because we were ashamed
of our dripping bodies
the weeds in that pool
wouldn't have been mistaken for
flowers
no, they were sky high
swaying
and scraping the clouds
in a last-ditch effort
to leave a mark
no lilies bloomed
no poppies burst like
fourth of july fireworks
no honey bees buzzed
in between the stalks of sunflowers
but we don’t even get the weeds
not in the chlorine
where plants don’t grow
and any slimy green
vibrant green
thing is swept out of the
perfect
stifled landscape
of pool chairs
and barbecues for birthday parties
of inflatable food items
that are...
it’s always sweater weather
the time of day to wrap oneself
in layers of soft
tide pool in dry waters for starfish
that might take the shape of birds
because warmth does not come
easy
the cold will stay
through bullets
and torn up flesh
but the warmth
will run
and you will run with it
to fast to catch frostbite
but to slow to make it
home
Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2020
there were weeds in that swimming pool
and they weren't green
they were dandelion fuzz
breaking apart
the bottom rung of the ladder
in the deep end that we climbed
because we were ashamed
of our dripping bodies
the weeds in that pool
wouldn’t have been mistaken for
flowers
no, they were sky high
swaying
and scraping the clouds
in a last-ditch effort
to leave a mark
no lilies bloomed
no poppies burst like
fourth of july fireworks
no honey bees buzzed
in between the stalks of sunflowers
pollinating
but we don’t even get the weeds
not in the chlorine
where plants don’t grow
and any slimy green
vibrant green
thing is swept out of that
perfect
stifled landscape
of pool chairs
and barbecues for birthday parties
of inflatable food items
that...