Eight Hours by Plane

I've been living in a
  d r e a m  w o r l d
where everything is supposed to be
new and stuffed with nervous fear
      but it's not because it's
                  mine
and I know it as if it was
always
  meant
    for
      me

and every day I remember
what I left behind and I realize

that I
don't
ever
want to go

back

Standing at My Kitchen Sink Doing Dishes-

again.

They insist on getting dirty and one of us has to wash them. Well, we don’t

have to— I know this to be true because I have a crazy great-aunt who doesn’t wash any dishes; she buys everything disposable. Some people say this is bad for the environment but I say

she is not so crazy because

I

hate

doing

dishes.

The hot water tap groans if you set it too low, and the cold water tap shrieks, too. This is backwards, I thought hot would shriek and cold would groan

…wouldn’t the world make more sense that way?

The chlorine steams up from the drain like a chemical peel and I reminded again

of where I am                                 which is not

my home in the country,                which is not

my lovers home in the mountains, which is not

my home at school.                                It is

my friend’s apartment where I sleep in the living room

because I am poor. I shouldn’t be poor

because I work…but I am also a student and

the latter is not the lesser...

Under this hot water, I can feel my nails getting soft and there is a dried on

speck of hard on food, on this bowl

of course it would be hard on there like a stupid man

you can’t get rid of no matter how many times

a week you hate him. I slam the bowl on the counter and smash my fingers and curse.

My mother taught me not to curse. 

Sangre De Cristo

Peaks like sharpened steel, warped from

thousands of years of Colorado sun

trapping the heat in this valley, a furnace

boiling away the molecular remains of water that once

made this land fertile, green, inviting. Water that

mere months before capped those peaks in soft blue snow

two lane streets hidden beneath ice, colder

than the bones of those who first broke these grounds

Blanca’s shadow, dark lines on farm land

like armored walls, holding captive

peoples who settled here, this valley of beauty, for protection from the world a new

         start, home for

generations of drop outs, basement dwellers,

inheriting the house when momma dies of a heart attack

they all do, it’s in the water,

it’s in the valley

a gift from the mountains—

a place to wait,

a place to call home

forever.

The Chef Decides to Close the Kitchen

Cast iron kettle on

stainless steel stove.

Purchased perfection, earned by

three thousand six hundred and fifty days

in the kitchen; in my kitchen

the water slinks in thick streams from tap to bottom of the

pot,                    

now resting solid, on the worktop.

Bring it to a boil and wait fifteen minutes…

Neatly kept fingers deftly spin and click the flame

Spin and click. Spin and click…

Blast this stove!

It’s heating now, the kettle, and the

Water rumbles inside, tumbling over itself and over itself.

The water is dancing and as it starts to scream

I slip myself inside. 

Tennis Shoes

The shoes were a Christmas present from my parents

high school spirit green; the

perfectly preppy piece of every

Outfit; dark jeans fitted like a glove

Carefully creamy soles padded

Down school halls, a princely waltz

My smile had ruling power there,

My sparkling eyes made every call.

Perfect shoes that held me steady when

my first love’s lips puckered

and tapped the carpet outside my parents room after

the nights    I    lived    for

Seattle now

And these shoes have seen more sidewalk than padded, carpet floor

Rain and snow wore themselves into blisters on my feet

5 times, each a week, I couldn’t walk.

I hobbled. Black spot on my foot after

a long shift at work

Wet socks inside these shoes now,

Not cute ones like before

I tie the greying laces, I have no choice anymore

No line of soft new shoppings haul

Every color and style to match

My money stretches not at all,

Barely covering the rent on this tiny hall

Ten months ago together, though a millennium it feels,

These shoes and I set out to walk an uncharted course

To change the world and become be that perfect girl

But there are holes in the soles of my shoes now

      there are holes in the souls of my shoes