11 February 2009

misti rainwater-lites

Cake Addicts

I've never been addicted to anything in my life,
certainly not cake, but last night I was so lonesome
I crashed the cake addicts meeting in the bingo hall basement.
Cranky cake addicts stared at me expecting a story so I obliged.
"It all began with cupcakes when I was four. Those weren't enough.
I soon moved onto bundt cakes, sheet cakes…hell, I even ate
fruitcakes when no other kinds of cakes were available. My life
has become unmanageable. Too many crumbs. So. Here I am."
There wasn't a dry eye in the room. Finally, I belonged.

Severe Cerebral Allergies

This morning after a delightful and satisfying
repast of fried egg tostadas with green sauce
and maple banana soup I scratched T.S. Eliot
from my head without too much difficulty.
Then during my daily stroll to the python park
I scratched Robert Lowell out of there but
when I looked at my fingers they were
salty with blood. So I soothed myself
with a preternaturally invigorating yet
desolate fuck fest with the gang in the
alley behind the disco bumper car warehouse
on 53rd and Ginsberg. Begonia quoted the
fourth page of Howl and Lucy fucked her
up the ass with a Fudgesicle for being so
goddamn banal. I laughed it off and made
it home in time for Ten Dollar Trivia.
"The Emperor of Ice Cream!" I screamed
and scratched my head so hard that bats
flew out screeching Black Sabbath lyrics.
A nap was in order and I dreamed I was
Anne Sexton trying to catch the lifeguard's
attention at the wave pool in between Odessa
and Midland. I scratched my head in my sleep
but Anne Sexton is one stubborn mama
deeply in love with my pomegranate shampoo.
"Anne, my darling, there's simply no room…"
One crazy witchy mama up in this bitch is
more than enough. In the words of Jimi
Hendrix I gots my own headache to live through
so off with your head and on with mine. Poor piƱata,
poor urn, poor unholy vessel you must be thinking.
Oh to hell with that. Overturned sea monkey bowl!
Flushed potty! Bone-dry Big Gulp cup! I'm not
looking for filler. Emptiness is bliss. I piss words
in the dragon's mouth and that makes fire.

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