Author: healgoe

Deep in the Heart

Radio waves nestle against my chest
as the dry hills whir up and down,
a seismic machine weathered with asphalt wrinkles.

The sky is bigger here;
a tapestry of blues and whites.
struggle to drink them in,
fearful that you will look upon the vast heavens
and find them hollow.

Where there is green, it is beige.
Where there is life, it is dry.
Where there is flora, it is a withered yellow rose,
and where there is sky,
it is hollow.

You want a tattoo?
Here’s your tattoo, Danny,
all inked in scar tissue
with a cattle brand needle
in the soft nape of your neck.

 

Fruitless Trial

I poured gallons into you–
sickly-sweet honey, endless sticky flow–
Surely it made you sweeter,
a lighter taste on my tongue.

Yet I stayed floating in vinegar,
formaldehyde burns and the fetal curve of preservation
dyeing my skin in suspended decay.

I was a specimen you never cared to study too closely;
ornament, oddity, fascination,
sweet oddball, strange decor.
Glass jar on wooden shelf,
the perfect perch for perverse surveillance.

Paris looks upon Aphrodite and thinks her beautiful;
Eris looks upon the apple and finds it all too sweet.

There may be no island sanctuary within this amber sea;
you may carry me home on wax paper wings
and think me a fool for searching.

You heart evades me, your smile evades me, your skin evades me,
but, in honey or vinegar or sweet autumn cider,
your bones are mine.

 

Letting Go

Scattered,
spilled across scorched blacktop,
jump rope playground-sweepers keep time:
an early-September metronome.
I watch from my lamppost roost,
eyes low,
hands sticky
with childhood wonder,
head drooping into a book
to conceal the flush of longing.

These are our brief intermissions in monotony:
locked and loaded melodramatics,
playground politics,
telenovela conversations and
impromptu psychiatry.

This we relish; here we live
our futures in miniature.
Here we rehearse
for walk-on roles in network dramas.
Tetherball cords tangle,
hair braided around the edge of the ring
as the fiercest of gladiators egg each other on.

We’ve shaded our
crayon drawings since then,
buried our playground receipts
in Crayola crypts.
We dislodge each shard of mulch
indented into scabbed knees-
curtain closed on dress rehearsal.
Baby tooth lockets crack open at hinges,
good luck incantations sealed
at enamel roots with tiny knuckle kisses.

 

My Sister Ate My Homework

My sister ate my homework.
It’s actually kind of a funny feeling
It makes my toes tingle
To where my feet begin to dance
Because my sister ate my homework
How could that be?

The dog and I worked on it endless hours
He helped me with my multiplication
And especially with the division
Oh my, that’s a whole other story

He’s quite the tutor or should I say tooter?
Anyway, maybe that’s why she got so jealous
Because he’s so much help
And smells a lot better!

I left my homework on my desk
I swear
I looked everywhere
Even at the dog
Who was definitely innocent
I swear

I turned to look at my sister
And I saw it with my own eyes
She swallowed it whole
All my hard work gone
In one bite!

 

My Dogs

My dogs are bad they get into my toys
When my dogs are bad they like to eat my food
When my dogs are upset they make a lot of noise
But sometimes my dogs could just be very rude

When my dogs are happy they run around the shed
When my dogs are sad they usually cry
When my dogs are sleepy they like to sleep in my bed
When my dogs do something bad they act very shy

Even though my dogs rip up my toys
And sometimes annoy me
That does not mean they are not my everything

 

Running Late

Oh no! There’s only 10 minutes until it’s time to go.

I must have slept through my alarm clock, I’m in total shock!

What will I wear, this is a nightmare!

I guess I’ll just throw this ugly t-shirt and jeans on, I should already be gone!

I can’t find my left shoe, what will I do?

Look at my hair, this just isn’t fair!

How can this be, nothing like this ever happens to me?

Mommy wake up, we need to leave to school immediately, we are running late, can’t you see!

Wait… What did you say? Today is Saturday!

 

My Dog’s Bad Habits

My dog has a bad habit.
He always falls.
He trips on his toys.
And he walks into walls.

My dog has another bad habit.
He likes to dig holes.
Every time he does it, he gets in trouble.
Now there is nothing in his bowls.

My dog has a third bad habit.
He likes to climb the wall.
But when he doesn’t pay attention,
He ends up with a big fall.

My dog has a fourth bad habit.
He digs into the trash.
When he gets in trouble,
He runs in a dash.