autobiography is a value judgment

frostbitten memories
resurfacing finally parading open

the Blob slurping its way down the rough
pink walls at night

and me not sleeping never
sleeping even now

sticky scrape of ice on my raw cheek

deafness on the corner where she lay
before they put the metal clip in her head that keeps
her insides in
keeps her alive keeps
reminding me of

cancer of

shopping for winter coats of

undercooked potatoes with the taste boiled out

there the nun melting into the wall in the room
where i was born purple and staring angry

nevermind the leaving

sore spot where i kept the fragile the paper
butterflies carefully creased and forgotten

bass drum three-dimensional
crawl inside with the underwear and books
near the knobby knees that dug into
small of back once but never again

screaming next to dryer with the faulty
lint trap threatening
to burn us in our sleep screaming about
phone bill responsibility loyalty
in that order wet clothes
slapping slapping slapping

fingers around cock around strange
slippery fish exploding unnatural me
thinking of the Discovery Channel
zap zap zap
of the remote control

water pounding on canvas as if to impale me to her
the girl asleep unknowing awakened by the storm
and i shrinking back from giant size

until the length of forced memories boils
down to nothing

down to a life only

(January 15 to 16, 2003)