images for destiny

pushing the lawnmower
behind the thick hedge, wishing it were thicker
as cars are passing by
flecks of grass in my hair and dirt on my hands
ten years old, eleven years old, twelve
so thrilled to pull the string
i remember that first time, i was strong enough
and pulled it with the right finess,
what an impression i made!
motor humming and i happily put all my weight
against the machine, watching it spit from the side
puberty hit and i mowed the backyard
but donned sunglasses and a hat for mowing the front yard
my friends and their families might...well...
see me? sweaty, in my cut-offs and tank top,
mowing the lawn...
happy behind the hedge, but there was a strip in front
near the road. i could hear a car coming...
abandoned lawnmower, and hid behind the shrubs
phew. pushing through cobwebs and with new spiders
in my hair, and little shrub feathers
took the handle in my hands again
hear another car coming...
squeeze through the hedge again.
every year, the hedge is thicker, and i am fatter
and it is harder to go back and forth
between the private yard and the public green runway
that machine broke down so much
i was to blame...the scapegoat but it wasn't me
it was the Avenger of the Weeds
Champion of the Ladybugs
"it quit working!" i said
lawn looking like a mohawk
slack cord, shoulder shrug, hands up
public strip left for last
the part that mattered most...neighbors
you know, would see the slack
dirt and grass upon my arms so tan
my tennis shoes so green
father telling me not to mow without shoes
or in my flip flops
feet so hot in the shoes, varnished
shoestrings telling my story of where i'd been
"what did you DO?"
oh sure, i kicked it. i pulled out a piece of metal
i felled all the stubborn strands but for spite
left a neat design hoping the fertilizer plane pilot
would notice the message
save me please from this dire indignity
when it is fixed
i will mow at night
hitting the rocks. ducking behind the black hedge
as headlights stream my way
crunkle through a tall weedy place
"you didn't get close enough"
want me to drive upon the tree?
up the roots, to the base of the tree
Weedwhacker laughing his ass off
coming into the house with freckles on my face
flush to my cheeks, and strong arms and legs.
Coming into the cool and quiet to read
a book across my bed
push and pull, new muscle humming
beneath the skin
feeling vibration for hours, hands numb and
feeling so...soft!
bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
grass in my ear, bugs falling out of my ponytail
could have been riding a motorcycle instead
turning the handles
instead, grasping a thin
steel frame that looked like a walker on acid


I was the lawnmower. I was also the dishwasher.

Hated having my hands wet so long, and scrubbing the pots
daydreaming out of the window, my cold hands warm at least
headphones on or boombox blaring as I sang
water running makes me sing, everyone always saying
"turn it down!" stamp, stamp, stamp, "turn it down!"
"that is WAY too loud"...huh? oh, didn't hear you
sorry. I was lost in the soap, up to my elbows in clouds
prisms and rainbows dissolving into the grime
green skid marks on the floor
"this isn't clean! look at this! Cameo, you need
to wash this over."
where are the yellow rubber gloves
that hold the steam in and wrinkle my hands anyway but
save me from pruning. wiping the soap from my brow,
no one there. everyone outside. spinning away from the sink
pushing off from the counter, singing and turning,
sliding and falling against the washing machine
holding a wall to push and pull away
twirling right into my father. brother stares at me
slight smile slight wide eye,
stopped in my tracks. no one was supposed to see
in my own house, the diva SINGS
and SCREAMS
"can't i have some privacy?" in her mind,
but instead blushing red, walking curtly,
back to the sink. no one will remember.
they are staring. my own family. my whole family
is staring at me, wondering
where did she come from?
missing my noise when i left home
missing four hours of singing a day
missing my arguments and my yelling
regreting the silence
thinking i have changed because no one knows whether
or not i sing anymore
out of sight, they imagine i am
out of mind
*******************************

"you didn't eat?"
"aren't you going to eat?"
"yes. i just want to write this first."
"are you ready to eat?"
"just a little more time, i have a new idea"
my plate is full, my cup doth overflow
i know how to be content in every thing
******************************************

retarded angel

a plastic snowflake ornament
on the tree turning time hurricane
one year i sat at the table with mother
making ornaments out of dough
painting them with newspaper underneath
mother working on her tollpainting
she rolled the dough and made a shepherd with a hook
a santa claus, a holy family, and some sweet sheep
i wanted to make one thing
an angel
it was the most beautiful angel ever
with this flaming red hair
tried to roll thin lips but when cooked
they were so fat. lopsided, and the head
was as large as the body
the wings were uneven
everyone in the family cracked up laughing
"it's the retarded angel"
they said. i laughed but secretly i also cried
i thought she was so beautiful
had to admit, with age, she was a disaster
each christmas, the pinnacle of dressing the tree
was hanging the retarded angel
she was smiling though, in a crooked style way
one of her wings was broken with packing
she had only one wing
such an awkward look on her face, like she
changed her mind about everything
after the wing fell off
***************************************************

Scotty Springer
living behind my house
changing sprinklers at dawn
stuttering sometimes
I told him, I'll bet we can cure that
I had an idea. He said he'd tried everything
We were eight and we'd tried everything there was to try
I noticed the large box that vibrated
that concealed some kind of electrical stuff for the house
I told him, "put your hands on that"
He did and we believed. We thought it shook
the stuttering out of him and we were so happy until it returned
So I reached down, thinking about Jesus,
took a handful of sandy dirt
and rubbed it into his hair
grinding it in,
"what would Jesus do?" not even an acronym
but I thought about the spit used in the eye of the blind
what was wrong with a little sand?
sandy stuttering, was rubbing it out of his head
went back to his Mormon mother
who thought I should know about the tablets found on the farm
"who is Joseph Smith?" I said to mom and dad
who were reading on the couch, not looking up from their books
thought I was reading Archie and Jughead comic books
Betty & Veronica. Veronica was such a snob. I hated her.
At "Joseph Smith" all books were DOWN.
"where did you get that?" "what are you reading?"
"Wait! I was reading that!"
Well, Scotty gave it to me, or Chandra, from next door
who never wanted to make up skits with me on a tape recorder
and the Springers never wanted to be "spies" with me
We had our forts, but no one was creating seven different languages
and slipping notes through the doors and doing any real SPYING
Had to content myself with draping fabric across the arms
of Barbie. Pinning things together with Alison and Tiffany
and they wanted me to play with Allie but Allie was so young
I liked the older sisters
Allie left me a note in my mailbox. She wasn't a spy. She just
left friendship notes for me, mispelled by hand
"I like you" I made her sisters cry when they babysat me
"you're not MY BOSS! You're not my MOM!"
refused to go to bed. left her sobbing, as I became alphafemale
Queen of mi casa. Made a woman 4 years older than me,
sob, call her mother, and pray for my parents to come home.
I just didn't want to go to bed.
that was Kara, but Kara was sometimes very fun too.
Quite ingenious. She tied me and my brother to chairs.
Pretended to be making a witches brew on the stove,
stirring and cackling, throwing in mint leaves.
We drank the witch tea
Then she blindfolded us and gave us the "taste testing game"
We had to describe what she was letting us taste
Scotty and his stuttering...it was always with him
I was so sad when they moved. Nothing was fun about the
new neighbors. The Les Schwabe people, nothing except the
slip-and-slide.
My next babysitter was a college student, another genius who
practiced her hypnosis on us, told us to imagine each
particular body part was slowly, slowly, slowly, falling asleep
Our left pinkie finger. Then the next finger, and to the wrist
Told Mom & Dad all about it
SHE was never called upon to babysit again
the yoga mind meter maid in the tie die cape with her books
Joseph Smith was replaced with more Jughead
I had a stack of comic books three feet high
I was a girl reading Archie & Betty & Veronica & Jughead
I loved Ethel.
Supermario Brothers replaced my comic books and I sold them at
a yardsale. My whole collection.
I practiced my super powers and saved the Princess
even if I couldn't cure
The Stuttering of Scotty Springer
*******************************************************************

this is so pretty...mary black's "colombus"...the piano playing is gorgeous, very talented. i like her phrasing on the part about "twisted" and that line. i think I like everything that's "Texas". they have some really good songs. They're Scottish! really good.














(atlan's "I wish i were a red, red rose...so beautiful. just want to hear irish music today and last night i did as well)