No Time Like That First Time
Fire! Your nose ignites,
flameless kerosene
(and, some say, Drano)
laced with ephedrine
you want to cry
powdered demons bite
through cartilage and sinuses,
take dead aim at your
brain, jump inside
want to scream
troops of tapping feet
fall into rhythm,
marking time, right
between your eyes
get the urge to dance
louder, louder, ultra
gray-matter power,
shock waves of energy
mushroom inside your head
you want to let go
detonate,
annihilate barriers,
bring down the walls,
unleashing floodwaters,
freeing long-captive dreams
to ride the current
through
arteries and capillaries,
pulsing, rushing,
raging torrents
pounding against your heart
sweeping you away.
But That’s Not Exactly Cool
So you sit and smile,
pretending like it’s not
even fazing you,
not touching you at all.
So he looks you
in the eye, trying
to measure you,
find a hint of reaction.
And he says,
Tell me how you feel.
So you can’t stand
it one more second,
and you close your eyes,
daring him to kiss you.
So he does, and it’s
electric, high voltage,
stun-gun strength desire
jolting sinew and bone.
And he asks,
How ’bout another line?
If a Little’s Good
More must be great, right?
Well, sometimes.
That time!
It didn’t burn as bad,
nasal self-defense,
I guess.
And it launched me
to a place, very
near the gates
of heaven.
Adam took my hand,
led me the rest
of the way. No,
not quite all
the way.
Although Maybe
it’s a matter of semantics.
How does Webster define
“all the way”?
Does it mean, start to finish,
an act of defilement,
pure physicality,
no choice but yes, no
stopping now,
no holds barred,
everything off, nothing
left to chance,
all the way in?
Because It Wasn’t That
It was gentle persuasion.
I can’t get enough of you.
Sweetest coercion.
My beautiful angel.
Magnet to metal.
I’ve got to have all of you.
It was hands, exploring
taboo places.
Oh, God! You’re perfect!
Lips and tongue, not
far behind.
Let me eat you up.
Skin to skin, belly
to shoulder.
Sweet as puddin’.
It was body rush
after body rush,
intensity building.
Touch me there.
Hot flush, raging
blush, quick-start
ignition.
See how much I need you?
Ice flash, instant
crash, voices
outside the door.
No! Don’t stop now!
I Didn’t Want to Stop Either
but one of those voices
belonged to my dad.
They were here just a while ago.
We scrambled to cover skin,
passion, and stash.
I didn’t see them leave.
Trepidation, just this side
of anticipation, tingled.
They must be around somewhere.
The monster stomped up
and down my spine.
Kristina? Buddy? You here?
Adam looked at me
and whispered, “Who’s Kristina?”
For Some Crazy Reason
I thought that was
the funniest thing
I’d ever heard.
Creepy, insane
laughter bubbled
up from my gut
like lava,
erupting
suddenly
in gigantic
heaving
gulps.
We were
busted.
I was
busted.
And I
didn’t
a
damn.
Not Until the Door Opened
Guess who was there
with my dad.
Wha’ the fuck you up to, Buddy?
Lince pounced through
the door, claws extended,
golden eyes growing black.
You two been messin’ around?
Hair askew, buttons
undone, I thought it was
pretty obvious. But Adam
dared say no.
Well, what, then?
Damn, if she didn’t
want to believe him.
I almost felt sorry
for her. The monster
shook me smarter.
Okay then. Fix me a line.
Like an Idiot
I took one too.
Things went from
weird to worse.
I mean, there I was,
snorting crank
with my dad,
my boyfriend,
and his other
girlfriend.
Something majorly
wrong with that picture.
The Monster Loves to Talk
He jumps into your head
and opens your mouth,
making it spout your
deepest
darkest
deceptions.
Making you say
all the things
you’d rather
not say,
at least not
in mixed company.
Dad Said
I got up, headed
for the door, hoping
Adam would try
to stop me.
But lust is stronger
than love. And
monster lust
is unconquerable.
I Was Pissed
Anger seeped
from my pores,
vinegar sweat,
as I stomped
out the door,
into the night,
down the dark
sidewalk.
I was hot.
Heart
jackhammering
in my chest,
pumping fever,
toenails to follicles,
blistering
veins and
brain cells.
I was high.
I ran through
the alley,
inconsolable,
turned down
the sidewalk,
invincible,
five minutes
later,
I was scared.
Night Had Hung
a sultry, black curtain,
sequined gold.
It would have been
quite beautiful in another part of town.
But here, cars
cruised slowly,
checking out the
tightly knit groups
crowding sidewalks
and doorways.
Here,
color
was everything,
skin color,
hair color,
the color of
your jacket.
Fair-skinned,
golden-haired,
I stood out like a moped
at a Harley rally.
I Thought I Knew the Way Home
but it all looked different,
covered in night,
and the buzzing
in my brain
put this sparkling
in my eyes.
It wasn’t like psychedelic,
more like my eyes
were speeding too,
and didn’t know
just where to focus
except on
points
of
light
in
the
dark.
Whatever,
I was
completely
disoriented.
And as I tried
to figure out
which way to go,
these three guys
in Raiders jackets
semicircled me.
Hey, baby,
can we help you wit’ som’thin?
I Tried to Be Cool
Tried to sound tough,
asked if they could
spare a smoke.
Sure, baby.
Anything you want.
Took a cigarette, bummed
a light, and with a soft “thanks”
tried to amble away.
Hey. Where ya going?
You ain’t in a hurry, are ya?
They weren’t big, not football
players, but I was outnumbered
and felt it.
Yeah, what kind
of thanks is that?
The circle tightened,
moving me back, away
from the safety of the street.
Damn, you are
a fine little piece.
Think. Think! But my brain
moved too fast to process well.
My eyes gave it away.
Yo. I think this bitch
been crankin’.
That was license enough. Bodies
bumped, pushed me into
a doorway, blocked escape.
Ever done a three-fer?
You gonna love it, baby.
Hands
covered my mouth,
rough,
held my arms,
strong,
ripped my clothes,
vicious.
Fear danced
up my spine,
jolted
my brain,
dripped onto
the ground.
No! I
screamed
into dirty
flesh.
Not
this way!
Buttons burst,
zippers
opened,
I closed my
eyes, braced
for pain.
And Then I Heard
a familiar voice.
Hey, dudes.
Whatcha doin’?
Adam took
command.
You not bothering
that little girl?
The trio
pulled back,
straightened up.
’Cause that just
isn’t right
Glared.
Stared.
Half issued
a challenge.
Nah, man. No need
to fight. Besides …
Adam pointed
to a black
and white,
two blocks
away and closing.
You know what they do
to rapists in prison?
Three Raiders Jackets
faded into the night,
dissolving like silver
and black nightmares.
Adam folded me gently
into his arms,
kissed my sobs,
stilled my quaking.
Don’t cry, Bree. It’s okay now.
The patrol car drew
even, slowed to
a crawl, window
rolled down, inquiring.
Remember, you’re buzzed. Stay cool.
Glad he was there, scared
he was there, I dug deep
for a smile, waved
the cop away.
Come on. Let’s go home.
I Held Tight
to his shirt
all the way home,
clung fast like
a paranoid kitten.
Dad wasn’t there,
no doubt bowling
off his own buzz,
so I asked Adam in.
We stayed up all
night, smoking,
talking, I struggle
to remember
exactly what
about.
Boys Chicks
School Detention
Art Sports
Reno Albuquerque
Mom Mom
Dad Long-gone Dad
Stepdads Boyfriends
Gay sister O.D.’d brother
Buddy Bree
Adam Kristina
Love Love
Dawn Broke
A rose-colored rain
over distant hills.
We kissed for about
the thousandth time,
No promises,
no demands,
Just solid rebuilding
of shattered trust.
Then I said it.
He said it too.
I love you.
And everything
that went before
meant nothing.
About That Time
Dad stumbled in,
looking like the monster
had boogied on off.
You still up?
Up, and flying high.
Was I supposed to go
to sleep?
Better get some sleep.
I walked Adam
to the door, promised
to see him later.
You two didn’t do anything
I wouldn’t do. Did you?
No way, Daddy dearest.
And where were you
when I needed you?
’Cause a girl could get
into real trouble.
Clueless
Dad went to bed.
I laid on the couch,
closed my eyes, let
the night slip into
replay
Exhilarating,
rocketing into my
mind, reaching
unimagined
highs.
Depressing,
knowing when
I left, Adam would
stay. Would he
downplay
spectacular
times together,
forget the best,
remember the
lows?
As if I had
never entered his
life, never existed,
would he
toss
all promise of
tomorrow,
tumble headlong
into old
routines?
As if
he had never
told me he loved me?
I Was Supposed to Sleep?
Thoughts bulleted
in my brain, ricocheting,
creative side to practical side,
lustful half to hateful half.
Sleep? Yeah, right.
I got up, located cleanser
and sponge, scrubbed
the bathroom,
washed the dishes,
waxed the kitchen floor.
Wrote a four-page
letter to my sister,
told her I was in love.
With a boy.
I think I asked
for her forgiveness.
Wrote a poem, an epic, tinged
with dark humor,
decided to give it to my mom
because this was all her fault.
Somehow.
Went to the bathroom,
considered my growling stomach,
but the thought of food made me want to heave.
Settled for a beer. That went down fine,
so I had another.
And another.
After the Fourth
No more writing paper,
nothing left to clean,
I turned on the TV,
thanked God for the
Jerry Springer marathon,
six great hours, filled
with pitiful people,
whose lives were way
worse than my own.
Hard to believe
the world is such
a screwed-up place.
I needed food, sleep,
but the monster denied
every bit of it.
Playing wasted couch
potato was all that I
could ask for.
And more.
Fading speed buzz,
escalating alcohol,
it was all I could
do to stay upright.
So I didn’t.
Used Up
Burned out, adrift on a sea
of uncertain synapses,
a place where
your eyes
refuse to focus
and your brain
refuses to function.
Somewhere between
the transvestite
who slept with his
(her?)
mother’s boyfriend
and the perky
blond
(transvestite?)
evening
weathergirl.
Everything
shut
down,
cerebral
ghost
town.
I
fell
into
sleep.
Deep,
dream-free
sleep.
Woke to Pounding
on the door,
insistent vibration,
building noise.
Bree? You there?
Late-day sun
filtered through
cracks in
the blinds.
It’s me. Open up.
Late-day? How
long had
I slept? Only
hours?
I need to talk to you.
Twenty hours,
as it turned
out. I tried to