30/30 Day 8

The last few nights I've stumbled home way too late to type up my scrawled on the subway 30/30 pieces. Today I am mustering all my best bondage skills and knotting myself without mercy to my resistant thesis. I'll type up each of my last three pieces during two-thesis-pages-written breaks.


Polite Invocation of Women

This time last year
Was walking through snow
Smelling like a pap smear
And talking just as fast

Wet-- not owning
Snow boots. This year
Invested in waterproofing.
Faster tracks. I hate the snow.

This time last year
Lied. Claimed calculation
Of the blackout drunk-- slept
With its ex-wife mock-planned

This time last year
Took enough hours
To go to work,
Come home, spike

Medicine fever, cry
Maroon alone in bed
Before it believed
Doctors hadn't forgotten

themselves inside it. This time
Last year sounds like
miscarriage or bacterial
balancing acts. Really

It's just about snow
And the walking talking
Speed it takes to create
Friction that melts

The path revealing
Sidewalk cracks
And decisions about
What's worth stepping on.