18 June 2008

Misti Rainwater-Lites

misti rainwater-lites
categorize my poems

my poems are automotive
they zig zag drunk the wrong way
down a one way street
in Austin, Texas
after a night of fun
at Bob Popular's

my poems are penis
spurt spurt
they cum up with messy conclusions
nothing so clear
as baby batter
in the eye

my poems are mommy
scrub scrub
no guilt here on these Pine Sol
spider free

my poems are supernatural
ghost of a chance
they will outlive me
and haunt the conscience
of a frat boy
who just fucked
a donut

my autobio at twenty

Daddy spanked me with a leather belt for walking in on him crawling toward Mommy in his tighty whities. I acted out in mild ways until I got a Snoopy diary at age nine. Then I wrote all the shit down and some of it rhymed. No one wanted to play with me at recess so I read a lot of books and said,” Someday I'll be a hot shit fashion model or actress and these fuckers will be sorry." When I was seventeen my mom and step dad found a poem I'd written about checking into a cheap motel and killing myself. They sent me to this mental hospital in San Antonio. I was put on Prozac. My senior year I gave a guy a blow job and he tried to de-virginize me but I moved around too much. I fell in love with the guy for trying. I wrote a lot of poems about him. I went to college at nineteen. I drank a lot of wine coolers and wished a frat boy would fall in love with me so I could ride around town topless in a Jeep listening to "Nevermind" and "Bloodsugarsexmagik." I was a terrified tongue tied introvert so I majored in theatre arts. Then I majored in journalism. Then I majored in English. This one hot guy named Jeff Crump (a Pisces) wanted to fuck me but I chickened out when his girlfriend called me crying because she'd found a note I'd written him in his dorm. I went to a party at a trailer house and drank a Purple Passion and my lips swelled up like Angelina Jolie's and this hot guy with a ponytail made fun of me. I wish he had fucked me, instead. I went to this party at a different trailer house and teased this frat guy into thinking I'd fuck him if he bought me some tacos. He bought me some tacos and tried to take me to his dorm. I said,” You’re headed in the wrong direction. My dorm is that way." He dropped me off at my dorm and then called me and begged me to come to his dorm. I hung up on him and disconnected the phone. I won the Gates-Thomas Excellence in English award for a poem I wrote in something like fifteen minutes about a frat guy named Evan who had a pet iguana in his dorm. We watched "Star Wars," drank some Chianti and I sucked his dick. He put on a condom to fuck me and I said,” I’m saving myself for spring break."

stingin' my way through the sea of same

Fuckers tend not to notice me for all the sharks and octopi and neon fish zoomin' around like they gots someplace to be. In the sea of same it's every fish for hisself. In the ocean of nothin' goin' on but the rent the sea monsters lurk around disguised as underwater carnival rides. You thought you was in line for a loop de loop dippity dip roller coaster guaranteed to blast yer ass into a tummy flop of much fun. Ha! No no no, buckaroo...yer ass is in line for a yawnin' mouth sucky suck suck void that doesn't give a fuck how many rainbow scales glitter over yer delicacy bones. Nobody sees me, the quiet blob jellyfish, floatin' around the coral. Then I sting and they say,” HOLY SHIT! That bitch really DO exist!"

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