Poem #778 – fancy poems

I want to write
poems that bookish girls trace into
Lisa Frank notebooks with sparkly gel pens
poems that scream from a human
need for words to capture nuance
poems that English PhD candidates recite
and analyze way more than necessary
poems that young women tattoo
onto their ribs to show their friends
not poems that end with
“and the bird dies”

Poem #777 – doing everything right

the accountant does her research
she buys a specific mix of birdseed
from a niche birdseed website on the second google search page
she sets up a bird feeder in an ideal place
according to the species Wikipedia page
she marks down in careful lettering in her notebook
the amounts eaten each day and the water consumed
and the bird dies

Poem #766

I swim far out into the ocean
farther than my arms should take me
the waves are pushing me violently
but I wait, cold and sad,
for the giant squid to wrap me in her tentacles,
pull me down into the heavy, dark water.
the pressure will be a relief
as my skull cracks, I’ll leak out
free to float in the abyss
shapeless

Poem #764 – worm

I built a fort in the closet,
padded the shelf with two layers of blankets
and laid my body out
I read books until the sun set
and the closet light made my eyes hurt
I flipped through children’s encyclopedias
learning about spiders and elephants
I hid in there
secretly reading comic books
so my family didn’t know I was childish
I grew up in that closet

Poem #748

the defective chameleon falls from his perch
everyday
without fail
he fails
yet he climbs all the way up
feet above the ground
camouflaged in the leaves
every inch he pulls himself up
each of those
is success
46 successes,
1 failure.
why did I mention that first?

Poem #735

lesbians scream
it is a fact — well-known — that dead mice are shriek-worthy creatures that should be handled with the utmost care, especially when shaking them free from the predatory jaws of a teenage kitten only to fall on a foot, after splitting a lip reaching under the table for said kitten