October 18, 2013

There is a pit on the bottom of my stomach.

It’s there because I put it there and it is large
because I watered it.

My pet pit’s name is George.


George goes wherever I go because
he makes the funniest jokes and I don’t like
being alone.  I invite George most days because
he’s always there for me when I am sad, throwing
out sarcastic comments and it makes me laugh.

George is not a part of me but sometimes
I think he is. At night I hear him whisper to me
always in a man’s voice and always with a passion
that isn’t otherwise inside me.


George snarls sometimes. He tells me so
himself and other times I can feel it
when he grows a little bigger at the bottom
of my stomach. I tell him he won’t fit soon,
I am small boned and he is fat with existence.


October 7, 2013

I’m a very sad little bee 

buzz buzz buzz

even the flowers don’t know me