Primitive (excerpt)
A gas station explodes
and for blocks
it looks like daylight.
The parking lot sinks in
the pumps shooting flame
candy wrappers floating down
like leaflets from a plane.
I am upset
but you think it's fun.
We drive back and forth looking.
Every time you touch me
the dashboard dims
and this worries me too.
I rub my thighs
thinking of what I should do.
We scream down the main street
turn and scream back.
You pull my skirt up
then bend down as I drive.
I imagine an accident
two tires bouncing
into the trees.
We wander into someone's yard.
There has been a party and
people sleep naked by the pool.
Empty chip bags blow over the lawn.
I run my fingers through my hair and watch
as you slip out of your clothes.
I stare and you smile
when a dog bursts from the woods.
A black dog, mostly mouth.
It clears the fence, the deck chairs
tears the screen door like a missile.
Inside the house the lights go out.
Soon it is quiet again.
You get into the pool and float.
The water is bright blue
and eight lights shine around you.
I feel bad about all this
wonder if I should do something.
I push my hair back, try to think.
The pool lights snap off suddenly
like a cigarette flicked into a lake.
Strong, Dead
The turning point is invisible
needs drop like spiders to the ground
and glide away as they should.
You won't need a fork anymore.
Conversation dies only once
after you flash
like a burnt lightbulb.
People turn and look
ice clicking in their glasses.
There is something to be learned
but you can't remember what
so you wear a sequined dress to the car
and ride out to see the desert.
Sheep try to beg for food
but move back when you step forward
like a walking x-ray.
In their little heads
the sun on your face
reminds them of something.
Your open mouth looks like home.
Primitive
One tanned arm.
At night the road sweats.
Each restaurant
riddled with light.
I can't smell anything now
no sound in the dark halls
and I wake up
kicking sheets to the floor.
My mother always said
never forget where
you come from.
I drive deeper into
the hopeful quiet
I do my best.
These hills grow dark
the air shines.
Any hopes I once had
turn off.
Imagine that relief.
Listen for them, the babies
the bombs in the ground
shining under your car
as you pass.
Soon you won't hear
yourself thinking.
How could this be wrong?
Each mistake
all my bad dreams
crushed between my teeth.
I feel a state line
a cobweb, float by.
