split ends fall like fingers to the floor
(tiles like dirty teeth)
doubled over
we ignore
the ground we walk on
crushed with
boots sandals sneakers heels
(heel to toe: hard)
bare feet, naked
truth
skips these floors
but tattoos the walls
we make our proclamations permanent
(repainted every year-
we are afraid
to learn from our mistakes-
and i didn't really love him.)
hide reason
under eyelids infrared
in our designated darkness
(we don't talk in person anymore-
and keep our reasons to ourselves.)
soles
blistering cold
tiles
we come here
(sick sob sex)
and wash our hands
over and over
again
because someone else is in our stall.
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2 comments:
i like the opening image of the poem, it makes me think of toilet paper ends.
the form of the poem works with the short shots flowing down the page and then the centered densenes. The parenthetical statements are wonderfull but are they too dense? Could they be broken up and spread further out? Instead of:(repainted every year- we are afraid to learn from out mistakes-and i didn't really love him.) to smaller chunks like: (repainted every year) (we are afraid to learn from our mistakes) (i didn't really love him) it would almost be like two separate poems, one in the parenthesis and one outside, and you could play with that kind of like one part of the poem is the clean outside of the stall and one part is the gritty wall inside dirtyness...
the ending is fab with the washing of hands great image...what about taking out the and, leaving it just "over over" then followed by "again again" I like the symetry though.
hurah for toliets!
drunken post:
indeed, poetry is everywhere. even on toilet stalls. all the homophobic, alpha-male, abusive statements on mens room walls are not without their own depth of thought and intrigue. i will pay closer attention to them from now on.
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