Five Poems from Switchblade Karma

(For San, my 2000th visitor, who wanted a poem or two from my book. Iím giving her five cause Iím a nice person)

~ ~ ~

Snow Cherry

Your nose is a snow cherry
Red and covered in frost
Youíve been buried in snowballs
Growing old and ill while they fight

Daddy jokes about eating your nose
And you start to cry because it hurts
Rubbing that snow cherry on your sleeve
Shaking ice out of your hair
And Daddy has now Christened you ďRudolphĒ
How humiliating

All the while, Momma scolds you
Saying that if you had bundled up properly
Covered your face with scarves so you couldnít breathe
And not fight with the boys in winter
Youíd never have that snow cherry
In the middle of your face

~ ~ ~

Spring Cleaning

Another week for spring cleaning
Another seven days to wash out my worries
And if my house doesnít sparkle this time
Iíll have to clean it all over again

Take the squeegee
And run it through my brain
Scrub every nerve
Dust my veins
Pour Clorox in my ears
And flush out my memories

Go deep if you can
With your Windex and rags
Break up the rust and lime
Chase away mildew
Make my face shine again


Pick away the edges with a  toothbrush
Scrape the gunk with your knife
Spit on my arms and rub your fist in my skin
Anything to make me look brand new

Break out Mr. Clean
Run a vacuum across my stomach
Bring down the cobwebs
And chase the mice back into the field
Iíve got to glow
Iíve got to gleam this time

Another week for spring cleaning
Another seven days to wash out my worries
And if my house doesnít sparkle this time
I might have to burn it down

~ ~ ~

Cajun for a Day

Brother wants to be Cajun for a day
Driving down to New Orleans
And mooning those girls
Whoíll happily drop their tops now and then

Mommaís screaming bloody acts of violence
As sheís beating lint out of his clothes
So he reiterates, fires a big one back
Demanding fun in Louisiana
Or heíll treat her with silence forever

So sheís bawling buckets in the kitchen
And heís plotting a rebellion
Making plans of things to do
Making lists of girls to hit on
When he becomes Cajun for a day

My mother is a basketful of nervous breakdowns
My brother is Godís apprentice or so he thinks
Just cause he gets to be Cajun for a day
Color me disgusted
They are reasons for me to wish
I stayed longer in the gene pool before surfacing
Or maybe to never surface at all
Iím hating them as each day passes

And to thinkÖ
I owe them so fucking much

~ ~ ~

 

 

Chase the Sun

Drive me to Miami
And calm the fuck down
Weíre losing our minds up north
So letís chase the sun till it goes down

Sheís smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt
As Iím packing my burdens in one suitcase
Outside, I hear the hollers of merchants
And the growls of hundred hungry dogs
Sniffing through alleyways and garbage
I havenít seen Spring in three months
Nor have I seen the ground


I smoke my joint as sheís washing her hair
And I see children running across the streets
Boys on the left, girls on the right
Itís a zoo without cages
People lay crap wherever they can
And expect someone will clean it up

I wipe the windows as sheís folding the laundry
And Iím trying to forget this place
Too much pollution in my ears
Too many insects crawling in my tub
Yet not enough space to live a life

I forgot what a rose looks like
I donít remember the different types of birds
Peace? Quiet?
What are those?
Iím not going to find them here.
Neither will she.

So we had to make a decision
And she made it for the both of us

Drive me to Miami
And calm the fuck down
Weíre losing our minds up north
So letís chase the sun till it goes down

~ ~ ~

Giraffe Man

Look at all your spots
From head to toe, youíre a serious man
You pick away at lint on your sleeves
And crane your neck to see the clouds


Scratching the dirt with your toe,
You mark your territory
Then spit at a cactus
And keep chewing away the inside of your mouth

With that steel between your nose
And the ivory hanging from your ears
Your fingers are worn like parchment
Your lips are dried mud
With blood-shot eyes and a sniff,
You look down on me
So I have to speak

Giraffe man, can I ask you a question or two?
Why do you have so many spots?
Why are you so tall?
And Iím wondering if you ever are afraid

The giraffe man only smiles
Says he doesnít care of their looks
Or the whispers they send each other
Heís fine with gold rings above his eyes
And the spikes on his tongue
He doesnít care what they think
I shouldnít care about them either
Itís a society, after all

~ ~ ~

Copyright 2005: CT

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Email me: sweetandsourcyanide@excite.com