Poem:
Cicada jingle bells
Caused awry confusion.
In my seamlessness of the foot-of-bed
Collection of worn-for-a-few-hours clothes.
Calling for another outfit change.
I awoken in the 5pm raindance call of shrill grey skies
That started back like granite
About to rain in liquid-form from the sky.
Stone grey.
Charcoal was always funny to me in the name of a tone of a hue.
Slate is my favorite.
But charcoal is a bit deeper.
It always looks like graphite to me.
Decked out in middle school gym grey
And heather was the one that made me feel like
There was a handout unnoticed-yet-awaited
For horehound barrel mints to make an experience.
…
Verse-Form:
I put on the 2016 almost all black hoodie except for pocket _ back vinyl skater-graphic design.
The aglet tie wore out many years ago in the wash.
I’ll get my shit back just wait.
There’s a specific science-necessity long sleeve and red hot shirt I expect to find it’s way back to me.
Or no Chili by Christmas.
- –
Conversational Playwright/Screen-write Form:
“You look too fucking good in your clothes. I’m wearing them now.” ‘But they’re comfortable and I like how they look!!’
“Ain’t no fucking way.. None. none of that will ever occur. How dare you threaten me with $5 clearance sweats again – they’re mine bitch.” But! “No scheduling. They’re in Mens. I’m a Man. The Motherfucking Man. The Grey Sweats are mine, bitch.”
‘Welp, guess it’s back to wearing tank-tops in public since all my clothes are gone. Too hot for a hoodie or cardigan since it’s Summer.’
“”… well if it’s free-game that’s fine. You do, indeed.. Have more shirts than grey sweats. I’ll concede to that fact. But if they linger for longer than 5 months in the back of the closet or dirty – I own them”” ‘This isn’t a pawn-shop for a closet.’
[enter the conversation: =5, 4 Talking.] “Oh, I beg to differ…” [The House-Hoarding-neverreallymyHusband..Forever Ex-Boyfriend Best Friend Homie G{roup Leader.} takes control of the conversation after 5 weeks of perpetual silence and only glares, smiles, chuckles, and rapidly grown curls and bald heads that age him to 47 years and he’s less than a year older than me. (but youngest in his immediate-family, dumbass.)…entryway convo bickering montage: she, vs they-he(AL)said::: [‘our brothers have the same name as do all my cousins.. There is no way you can defeat me. Your ways were through suffering + mistake , mine were through x.taught.x Leadership + Hierarchy. ::: I Love Trash! I’m from NY.] {He wins bc no one else felt they win but he wins in his mind so dual-purpose the board has voted yes to these altercations, accusations, and reserved-ammenities.] [Otherwise, he will make sure all of us look ugly in the trash he leaves for us that we own and makes us feel down about ourselves and style.]
=++++++====—__–
Playing around with Titles [Chaos Mathematic-Translations:-D]
B Side-Title: I’ve worn the same style my whole life and I only realize after 12 years I wasn’t lame and was actually quite well-dressed and coordinated.
C Side-Title: I never wore brand-new clothes I bought myself other than Walmart Girls Department until my family moved in with my Grandparents at 7 Years Old and bought me Clothes.
D Side-Title: Free Flea Market Clothing Swap-Meet with da Aunties + Elder Cousins. [We were the Youngest Lil’ Cousins of that Generation of Filipino in San Diego County pre-2005.]
E Side-Title: My Favorite Shirts are my Brothers’ Rice-selling Dragon Shirts and it’s been War for 17 years finding the Archives. [The True Cuban-Link Courtesan Makery-Shirt-o’-wearing-by-personal-choice-y-comfortabilities.]
G-Side Title: Lick-back Community Lift Fit.
Z-Side Title: I got a lot to work out with myself as far as what constitutes art and contributing to my work ethic as a career writer.
0-Side Title: Not Enough on the Time of the Internet for our Personal-Tastes today, Boss-Gal. You’re gonna have to Shake Dice for 3 hours now. Enjoy the extra Spins on the Wheel.
[1-Side Title: Get the fuck back to work.]
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