The trees are lined with purple light

I'm high on a dime store drug tonight

The clouds were dripping, saccharine sweet

The pavement is marshmallow, under my feet

The trees are lined with purple light

I'm high on a dime store drug tonight

The clouds are dripping saccharine sweet..

The pavement is nothing under my feet

I'm dying, right here, in the center

of the street.  

B.

a dynasty of errors within me and now i see a recreation of the foulness repeat why is it that i have to see such a dark place within

under the mattress and into the womb under the table and into the room... look out from the the window and what do you see.. a world that could not be me.  inside an incestuous chamber of doubt 

lays the grout

for the workings

of  

my 

every

anxiety...

from within our boxes we whisper to each other "when when when.. will we get out?  will we ever get out?  what do you mean get out? get out get out getout geouteotuoutugettttttttttoooooooooooooooooooGHHEETOOOOO!!!!!!  

Ghetto. 

The ghetto is everywhere.  from within the ghetto is a ghetto and what radiates out from it is in of itself a reflection of the ghetto.  urban to suburban to rural within each sect you will find the ghetto.  

in a city apartment a girl looks out from her window onto the urban sprawl and says "will i ever get out?"

from a trailer in the country a girl looks upon the brink of suburban sprawl and says "will i ever get out?"

from within the suburban sprawl a girl looks... both ways...and says....}the stiffling is madness for all of us within.  those at either end ... of .... the... dim....{she sees those who wish to stay and those who wish to flee and not a single

one

of 

them

wants

her

company

because 

she 

is 

an 

extension

of

their

self 

they 

wish

not

to 

see

}a bright and shiny glistening doll---eeee on a pristine mantle of despair eyes black and wide glistening unmoved, untouched, by the incessant sound of polishing and vacuuming to maintain the LIE that the....

urban

and

rural

wish

to

see

so 

that

they

can

feel

good

in

right

company

and make a good impression.  

what is it she should be?

{she should be nothing so we can do anything..}

{she should be nothing so we can do anything..}

{and so they abuse the naive and vulnerable}

then they dress her up.

so she looks pretty.

so that everyone knows everything is okay.

as long as she looks pretty. 

everything is okay. 

the second a woman.. 

is in disarray...

... all of the evils of the world are revealed......

Sad wet

Eating depressing desserts

Complex carbohydrate clouds

Plenty of big fat tears

Plump tears rolling down a plump cheek absorbing into a plump pillow

"what a sad wet sack"

And I'm falling into a pool of water wrapped in a white cotton sheet

The bleachers are filled with thin mean olive complected people with their sandy brown hair and thin knobby fingers..

They make appalling faces as the sheet becomes soaked and molds to my mounds of heavy flesh seconds before I submerge completely into the water, an irregular globular form caste against the rigid primary colored racing lanes tiled upon the bottom of the pool...

Rigid lanes for thin rigid people to prove themselves within. Who makes it to one end first but now none of that matters..not in this moment because they all came to see the show, and now they are cleanly dressed in pastel colors, smelling of detergent and department store..

Because the fat woman is drowning, if only she could have fit in the lines, they thought, raced behind us in the lines until all the sad fat melted away, maybe she would be sitting here with us, not making a spectacle of herself..  But then, what would they read then?  What would they read then?

I ate bitter truths to sooth my twisted roots
 and the whirlwhind of ideas physically manifesting
in a shoot
from the field
 that is my skull.
  Spiraling curling - cues -  in vibrant natural and dyed hues ...
...come spilling, seeking and vibrating.. The blues..

I do not know what is happening to my brain....!

My ugliness in form and figure is all they see.

My hunched back and unbearable eyes.

Nobody looks me there, in the eye.

Visions of myself falling from a tree limb, skirted and noosed, flicker in my mind

i'm feeling towards the end of despair

i'm not interested, unable, and hopeless