Houndstooth

Houndstooth,
on those arab scarves
everyone wears.

I'm just glad to see
the propagation of
such a pattern.

Guns & Holsters

Though I'm no Freudian
I must admit that there
is something incredibly verile
about being strapped to a gun
It's leather holster
—so supple to the touch
It's not that I like guns
or necessarily police officers.
It's just—a gun, an actual
gun. Right there.
If your face were splayed
and tanned, I'd love it.
Just as surely as the nose
of an 80's convertible—arrow-like—
is a weapon too. It's not strapped
to you. And has no case to call it's own.
I'm willing to accept that
this all is the result of movies.

Reading to Children

When I have children,
(and I will) I'll
read to them,
because that's important for kids
and because I like to read,
even children's books
—sometimes
I like their illustrations
and guessing
their media
(which is sometimes
on their title pages)
I asked Bryn
of the two names
on the cover of some book
who wrote, who drew?
"The girl," she said, "because
they're beautiful."
and I said:
"Women don't have a monopoly on beauty."
Gosh!

I Get to Wear Cut-Off Shorts Too

Oh my god this
is not obscene.

They're just my
cut-off jeans.

You've seen my legs
—you changed me

as a baby.

Apples

The stem ended
baring two fruits
the other pile
is alone

If you have
and
exchange both
alone

If you have known
the glossy shadow
the row. The formal
invitation's ripened blow

If you have doctors,
teachers,
old woman,
wax between them

the evening's final
throes postponed
and postponing
is alone.

the Compound

It's crazy
that fundamentalist mormons
in texas, or wherever they are
force girls to get pregnant.
—Girls!

I feel partially responsible
because of my upbringing
and I think that a child's innocence
is the most precious thing
and the most despicable to steal.

My New Four-Pack

I bought a pack
of grey Hanes t-shirts
on amazon a few
weeks ago.

They came today.

And opening them
I was dismayed.

They were folded
and rolled into tubes.
Two dabs of tape
held the collar to the waist
or chest, or just below
in a roll.

And I wanted to unwrap them,
and to throw away the bag
(and the tape)
and to put them away.

It made me sad,
because I'll never roll them
—probably won't even fold them—
that neatly again.