all the women and girls took subtle, cunning enjoyment in the theater of twisting stomach muscles: they preached on the grace of taffeta and tiara appearances but scorned the exiled plains and over zealous swerve in looming bellies and thighs. they walked like vegans in fur coats, travesties feeding chicken noodle soup swollen with inner beauty when all they wished was to lay in the wooden bed frame of a magazine, decorated like a front door wreath. the vultures bitching about the red light district even though they whored themselves for perfection.
they whispered,
canyons nestling between shoulder blades
"I opened my mailbox this morning
and saw the scavengers, second-handers,
filled it with cherry bombs of surgery,
poisons for physical improvement,
and pills for zombie brainwaves.
they say it’s picturesque so it must be, right?"
I remember my hawk feet and buzzard canines describing the utopian outline of model delicacy and luster. my puppet body meant to enhance the tide of big band swing, moving from partner to partner, the dance floor of a mattress, and they’d handle me as a luxury. I performed as if I had the waist and hips of a wishbone show girl or a pin up in nothing but scientist goggles, but the pinch of cookie crumbs I ate could never nourish my miniature telescope of intelligence.
my twin sinking beneath the currents of bathtub water and store windows gawked as if I were bathroom vomit or an automobile crash.
the streets were windy
and the woods were barking with silence
eardrums gnawed numb
"If I opened this trench coat I wouldn't give a shit
those damn necrophiliacs can cry all they want."
I'd rather carry the face of a smashed light bulb than reflect the climax of an orchestra: grand with the dangerous class of a fedora. all the women and girls will speak on the behalf of their gasps being accidental but they'll stutter on the account of their jealousy.
Author notes
Platinum Stitches. yay for being able to enter something fresh!
I never was and never wish to be beautiful. I never want perfection. I never want to be categorized by either. All I crave is honesty, raw destruction, change, growth, and knowledge.
I might have to take a break from here. my mom works for expo design center and all the stores are being closed so my mom lost her job but she'll have to continue to work their until april when all stores are officially closed. I just need some space and some time and a fucking hospital ward. I need to be alone.
A contest entry
- pulling our weight. by girl shaman.
1300 points, ended February 10, 2009, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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they walked like vegans in fur coats
hahahaha,my favorite line. the imagery here is something to aspire for. ill have to read this atleast once more to catch everything. something i pulled out of this is that the speaker seems to always want more, like what she has isnt enough. thats what i got. ill re rea -
they whispered,
canyons nestling between shoulder blades
I really am in love with that part, im not sure why but i think its beautiful.
this is such a good write[: -
Oh, love that last stanza! Sorry about your mom's job - I hope she finds something better.
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first of all i am very sorry to hear about your mother losing her job, this economy is breaking down alot of families. i pray that she finds a job to restore what they've taken.
as for your writing this was a great example of someone spilling out and not being able to stop. i'm not sure if i got the overall meaning behind this and maybe i'd have to read it over again but it really reminds me of how i used to write. my only suggestion is with this line
"eardrums gnawed numb" i'm not sure that makes sense being next to each other, so i think maybe switching to 'my eardrums were gnawed from the numbing effect.. etc.' or just taking out gnawed or numb. either way, you did pretty good and i thank you for entering
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it's about how when I was younger I would just stress myself over about wanting to be beautiful and how it was destroying the way I think and making me stupid and petty. by the end it's about enjoying who I am even though I'm not beautiful and realizing how unimportant it is to want that. I guess the bones of it are like a cheesy Lifetime movie about accpeting who you are.
thanks for the comment.
xxx
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Baby if you go to hospital how will I ever hear from you? I do understand that you need a break.
The beginning of this beautiful, dark and beautiful. Sort of enchanting, but not fairytale way.
"If I opened this trench coat I wouldn't give a shit
those damn necrophiliacs can cry all they want."
I adored this.
The last paragrah was raw and so honest. I love it, it has a nice tinge of hate to it. But I love the way you expressed your thoughts.
I love you.
<3
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don't worry. I'll be here. I can't afford to get into a hospital. but the vacation aspect of it is really lovely.
love you too boo
♥
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There is no such thing as perfection mainly because everyone ideals of perfection is different. There are stereotypes. Thats all there is and all that is meaningful to anyone.
I'd say I'm sorry for your mom losing her job but I guess apologies become stale after so long. As always I'm here for you doll and if you ever want easy and mindless discussion you have my number.
Todays unemplyment is 8%. During the Great Depression it was 25%. How long do you think it will take us to get there?
Love you sweetness
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be hopeful our economy will get better
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