attention!

I don’t want real life,
rum in my green tea,
butterfly attention-span,
I don’t ever want to be forty,
pressing down starter-wrinkles
under cakes and pies of makeup,
straightening my hair into sleekness,
pretending junior high perfumes.
I see men opening doors,
they do it for me, too,
they sigh afterwards.
I see uncomfortable psychiatrists,
sitting next to me,
and make them more uncomfortable
with unrelenting stares and
by asking intrusively personal questions,
and running my hands through my
knotted hair,
eyes black-lined around,
raccoon-addict delirium,
until they gather up their bags,
like shields,
and run, diagnosing.
If I met you in a coffee shop,
you would run, too,
because I would want to know
why you are living,
I am desperate!
Why do you do it?
I only want
every thrill there is,
and then to die
soon.

20 Comments

  1. every experience

    is good

    ~

    a 45 year old

    beautiful woman author

    read this from her book

    Something Fierce

    about being detained

    outside

    the Chilean border

    ~

    it may be bullshit

    but it got her through hell

    plus she did also need

    15 years of therapy

    from post traumatic stress

    ~

    you sing such poetry

    chilling to read

    evocative imagery

    keep sharing with the world

    we need you

  2. forty ain’t so bad, and there’s lot’s of thrills in this life/world, the question is, can you catch them all before you die? that’s why i do it still

  3. “Why do you do it?” I live because it’s glorious, even when it hurts. As for dying soon, you already have, many times, whenever you’ve killed a moment of your youth by worrying about aging.

  4. Sufi … being FORTYfied?
    When every breath we take is a new life
    How so then?
    Sufi you are only one breath old
    With every inspiration “Anew”

  5. A few months ago… (actually, about a year now. Fuck), I got into a real deep conversation with this chick in a coffee shop who looked like she could use a friend. I say that cause she almost looked like a transvestite, I couldn’t be sure, and looked she looked weathered. She started telling me how Tupac is still alive and how he lived in her basement for a while, and then she recited a poem about it. In all seriousness. Isn’t shit like that what life’s about?

    Also, if you’ve not ever heard this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08WeoqWilRQ – always brings a smile to my face.

    Double also, Jesus Jumanji your writing’s fabtastic.

  6. I am reading a lot of Sylvia Plath at the moment and I see so much influence here (whether intended or not). So beautiful and sad at the same time. I feel like giving your words a hug.

  7. I can really appreciate this.

    I will be altering how I address you. How about SACH? (Sounds better than “SAC”).

Love you, too

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s