December 2011
21 posts
4 tags
don't bury me in the ground...
because in my last days, when people gather to say last words, or make last amends,  bring cake and pie, or don’t visit at all because my grievances were too great… I want everyone  to reflect on the most simple fact of my life. I hated bugs. So, don’t bury me in the ground, if you remember me at all. Unless you hated me, then I implore you to remember that  cremating my corpse...
Dec 30th
49 notes
4 tags
Hey Snake Oil Salesman!
Come over here and sell me a bottle of your best miracle-hope-for-a-cure, that makes me peppy in the morning pretty like Donna Reed   all my hairs in place none on my legs blush painted perfectly to match my lips healthy and happy smiling Crest white not a pain in the hip or a wring in the hand, not a chore un done or a worry on the brow, just one bottle of perfect-all-day, fresh mint flavor...
Dec 28th
27 notes
Dec 28th
5 notes
4 tags
people say
I’m back, as if they ever left the microbes crushed under their feet their sweat evaporated and mingling with the atmosphere the carbon in their bones still leaching into the water table… No, we never really leave.  I never ever left. 
Dec 27th
32 notes
3 tags
lemme telya bout folk
folk is funny in dey ways wuther its in how dey point der shoes to da wall or how dey hang a waist or save a dish or how dey cool it for tha icebox tha sauce on da fish da riaght way to fry a tater don’t matter wur dey from folk is funny in dey ways 
Dec 26th
26 notes
4 tags
in the soup
I lit a cigarette, from a candle in haste and was immediately struck by an Appalachian fear— a piece of Lithuanian past reached up to save a sailor from death— and formed my hands in imitation of a priest, but a bit more Orleans Voodoo, — to cross the candle three times…  and save sailor my disrespect We have become— all of us— so many people in this place. 
Dec 26th
37 notes
4 tags
Let’s talk BRAND IDENTITY here, I mean everydayjoe and his coffeecup BOTH knowing your name. Let’s talk scailablility, can you take this persona to the next level?  Is Jamie Sue Austin going to be the next Jamie Sue Austin to do what ever it is that she does best? You know, that stuff you do, that people like and remember you for, what ever it is… Those are the kind of things you...
Dec 23rd
19 notes
5 tags
Dear Mama,
I know you birthed me  in the blue clay of Kentucky hoping I’d take stubborn root and grow hard for future winters, but I’m not a cedar or a pine, or a pluck of white burley— but a little white clay sipping butterfly flitting off to bright colors in foreign gardens looking for cool drinks of blue clay  elsewhere in the world. 
Dec 21st
62 notes
4 tags
What if I found my purpose
and it was too grand for me? Or if it didn’t suit my fancy, being suited for a particular task and having no interest. What if my purpose commanded humility to such a degree I could not bend the reed  to yield to it.   No, I don’t think I’ll let omnipresent powers choose my purpose. I have been built fine and flexible, vain and brilliant, I should choose my own purpose. Not to...
Dec 21st
29 notes
4 tags
I thought the awkward parts of life
like the gangly arms of teenaged boys would be grown out thick and straight a line to walk down, a path already picked, but my voice is round and my breasts low, the awkwardness always the same… and in new ways I think “how can I endure the irritation that is the act of loving others?” to cause no harm, but to be set free to chrysalize and emerge winged, to triumph self...
Dec 16th
41 notes
3 tags
Best Rejection Letter EVER
Dear Jamie Sue,  Thank you for submitting to (redacted). We appreciate your continued support and patronage. Unfortunately we were unable to find a place for your work in this issue. Sometimes this happens. It means nothing. So pull the shadows around you like a puff and get back to work. More opportunities scramble forth, trailing their long elegant heels of hot air with alice blue eyes, crinkled...
Dec 16th
42 notes
4 tags
I am paralyzed by the dirty dishes
in the same way that some personalities freeze in hostage situations the clutter constitutes too much visual input and I have lost my data processing capabilities as if the house has folded on top of me black and thick a mat of confusion with dusting repairing cleaning cooking holding healing teaching  loving  and merry making my primary seasonal duties going unperformed as I sit banded and...
Dec 14th
34 notes
4 tags
a heavy brass latch
on a thick leather bag filled with TUMS Excedrin red lipstick from Macy’s and Valium is all you need to determine a woman’s age. you know she is old enough to value a dependable thing, for heartbreak, headaches, bright red lips, and more stress than is generally called for  I can tell you  my age by saying I carry the same things, in a cloth bag (for washing), except I use lip...
Dec 10th
114 notes
4 tags
after the argument..
I have said my peace and counted to three and now you walk so carefully to avoid the cuts of eggshells I did not spend my weeping words to build a floor of anything else but bamboo, or else I would have scattered the ground myself, with curses 
Dec 9th
54 notes
3 tags
an unrequited thing
Jackie had a special place for her thoughts.  Each one belonged to its own distinctly unique file box, cross referenced with images, sounds, and emotions, against all same-similar or like experience.  They were locked tight and she could trace each one from its birth till its death.   It didn’t stop the thoughts from escaping.  Sometimes they’d snap from her rolodex and present...
Dec 6th
20 notes
4 tags
Dent de lion
What sharp teeth you have, little yellow lion, with your mane all ablaze in golden petals, face defiant under the orange heat of summer, no wonder you are so strong, little king of the lawn. 
Dec 5th
45 notes
4 tags
I have found more things alive and squirming under half rotted branches then are currently residing in my heart. 
Dec 4th
29 notes
4 tags
I am trying not to be resentful, the square peg does not curse the round hole, and to take with grace, the lot and commentary given to me. But I am.   In every passing moment I grow more weary of it.  I can not fit.
Dec 4th
15 notes
4 tags
I am quiet now and properly sedated for your comfort. Am I more pleasing in this, a simple, deconstructed, form? I wish you could see with the same brilliance I do because the colors and the sounds are maddening and bright. If we had the same visions erupting from our skin  you would know the ever present need to release them as doves. So they could float, and soar, mate and die as...
Dec 4th
17 notes
3 tags
Slender footnotes with polished references  cross their toes gently at the bottom of the page. 
Dec 3rd
124 notes
3 tags
The Story of Singing River
The held hands Wade in the water… Wade in the water, children Wade in the water… and chanted God’s gonna trouble the water gripped the sand that lapped their feet Wade in the water… Wade in the water, children Wade in the water…  and let the water rush down their throats God’s gonna set you free   The Legend of Singing River: The Singing River, in...
Dec 1st
19 notes