Ramblings Of A Semi-Mad Girl

South first. Then east.

Back to the place I erased from

my map. The people who were

shards of glass. I kept holding/

gripping tighter and tighter.

There was an empty swimming pool

and a shillouette swingset that could not

catch a breeze.

And those things will always be empty

to me. The whole state is empty. The parking lots,

the pizza shops

and the eyes. Empty.

When I return, I will pour

a new name into

my mouth. Fill my belly with

the county lines. They never

actually meant anything

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too tough for him,

I say, stay in there, I’m not going

to let anybody see

you.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I pour whiskey on him and inhale

cigarette smoke

and the whores and the bartenders

and the grocery clerks

never know that

he’s

in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too tough for him,

I say,

stay down, do you want to mess

me up?

you want to screw up the

works?

you want to blow my book sales in

Europe?

there’s a bluebird in my heart that

wants to get out

but I’m too clever, I only let him out

at night sometimes

when everybody’s asleep.

I say, I know that you’re there,

so don’t be

sad.

then I put him back,

but he’s singing a little

in there, I haven’t quite let him

die

and we sleep together like

that

with our

secret pact

and it’s nice enough to

make a man

weep, but I don’t