Saturday, August 20, 2016

THE ASTROLOGY OF ME

Pluto is my well-worn bondage collar.
Mars is my butterfly cowboy boots.
Venus is my blue lipstick.
Saturn is me in first grade missing recess
because I had to write the words
over and over
and over again.
I was stupid and sloppy.
My letters were too big.
I'm still stuck in that classroom.
I look out the window at all the lucky assholes
on swings and slides.
Fuck you, fuckers.
Uranus is the alligator I keep in my tub.
Neptune is me the mermaid somewhere
north of Los Angeles.
Mercury is this mix tape.
Jupiter is today.
Taking my son to Whole Foods and Trader Joe's.
Pickle chips. Various cheeses. Hippie soap.
(Swooncake.)
The sun is tomorrow.
Lonely but bacon.
Lonely but coffee.
Not lonely at all.
The rain is falling tonight
and I can hear voices in another room.
I'm here.
I'm alive.
I'm loved.
I'm wearing donut pajamas and dangerous hair.
I must be here on purpose.
I'm a real live doll.
Pure melancholy but you should hear my laugh.
The moon is this song on repeat.
Please. Daddy. Make it stop.
The casual observer doesn't believe I'm forty-three.
Thanks, Virgo vampire ascendant.
The south node is Dairy Queen.
The north node is Africa.
The vertex is me passing out in Jack Daniels vomit.
The Holly Inn.
Eagle Pass, Texas.
Yeehaw, y'all.
Somehow I've survived to issue this transmission.
Things are shining in the progressed.
Aries sun and Venus and soon...Aries moon.
I couldn't hope
much harder.


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