When you decide to eat the whole pizza
because leaving just one or two pieces
just doesn’t make sense at the time.
When you squeeze in dessert
because the sweetness dances
in your mouth like joy.
When you get so full
the thought of moving anything
proves a dangerous task.
You turn defensive
become overly cautious
an inflated balloon in a field of porcupines.
I’ve been eating up stories for years
cramming them into memory
until the drawers jam shut.
There’s a bench seat in my bedroom
packed by a tetris engineer
with journals and diaries and albums
worrying I’ll pick the wrong place to start
that I won’t be able to fit it all back in
That I’m all types of carnival dart
crooked aim sloppy toss
Three attempts for a dollar.
WHAT’S TO BECOME OF IT
When you’re dead,
the things you were working on
before just lay there,
It’s easy with poems
Any editor could come along
and throw them together chronologically
and make an anthology.
But it’s different with old cars.
Sure, someone could come along
and finish rebuilding that Volkswagen van,
but it won’t be yours anymore.
It will just be a Volkswagen van
that somebody finished rebuilding.
Nobody will remember
that you finished the dashboard,
the care that you put into it.
And oh, the plans you had for upholstery.
Those decisions will go to someone else.
Like the girlfriend you decided not to marry.
Wedding fantasies shared over
park benches in London.
None of it will matter.
It wasn’t yours to begin with.
NONE OF THIS IS TRUE
I am an avid house cleaner
one drop of dust, and I pounce.
I practice only what I preach
especially when it comes to cuticle care.
I paint my nails at least three times a day.
It’s not because I’m indecisive about color,
I just enjoy the process.
And the smell of acetone.
I don’t care what you think of me.
I’ll wear the gold lame cat suit
if it suits me.
I own two of them.
They remind me of the Oscars
and my love for awards shows.
I never miss them.
Especially when animals are involved.
I spend my free time at zoos.
You’ll find me with the ostrich.
Or ostriches, if you prefer.
I did not have to look up the plural
for ostrich to know
just how much we have in common.
IN THE DETAILS
The best April Fool’s Day joke I ever played
was the year I called my mother and told her
I’d gotten married over spring break
at the Elvis Chapel of Love in Graceland.
She was pissed.
Not so much that I’d gotten married,
but that I’d gotten married without her.
The Elvis theme. The guitar shaped pool
at the hotel. Chili Cheese fries for dinner.
None of that mattered.
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t believe
anything I say. I’m just saying that I once
had a boyfriend who offered to finance my poker career,
because of my ability to keep a straight face.
Now he was a good liar, but horrible at cards.
I will do everything I can to protect you
from my feelings. My disappointment.
I’m horrible at remembering jokes.
But so good at finding things to make you laugh.