in front of me
in a bad
japanese movie
i grab for the flesh
on your neck
forcing you to give me
your popcorn
it's more trouble
than it's worth
you gave me a quarter
so i followed anywhere
fell down every stair
hotdogs clatter down the aisle
on sticks
they are on my side.

years may follow you
here and home
but i know you
my head on the kitchen table
whispering
all you had to do
was knock on my wall
go bowling in longjohns
hide in bushes
waiting
for you
even polite in your sleep
i tormented your cats
you dripped icecubes into your nose
slept with my raggedy ann
trapped me in my bathrobe
and didn't laugh out loud
when you saw me in the morning

call me every other month
for small talk
i can't forget you in my nightmares
you're always there
your dried head shines in the sun
i can see myself
an old woman moans my name
there is an egg in her throat
you backed us into a swamp
and all you could do
was sing mexican songs
i warned you not to lie
and then i set your eyebrows on fire.

i ran away from home
to eat uncle sam's cereal
in a motel all winter
made pancakes in the dark
because you hated them
you're so hard to find
i don't look anymore
both corners of my eyes
are lost
a blank postcard
rots in the mailbox
a farmer in texas mud
leers at me
i pretend
i don't know

catching up with it all
is like the sun in your eyes
your arms around the sky
the paint corroding
on the house next door
there are just some things
you never want to be without
the screams of claire torry
the flashes of memory
even in your soup
the sound of nuns singing
in a prisoners tunnel
fill the room with all kinds of smoke
and quit all my jobs
because they're no fun
drowning in an orchestra
smiling occasionally
at the wig head in the ashtray
one hour before
you weren't alone
and you lay on the couch laughing
staring until dark
at the haunted house
across the freeway

i'm not myself today
at least i don't think i am
but then, i've never
thought about it