Thu. Apr 25th, 2024

iStock_000013436720_Small-825x510water (1)

 

Somewhere, Over a Rainbow

by Renee Garcia-Brown

I dreamed of a place called home

And you were there, and you and you and all of you

The you’s no longer here, the you’s who only ever existed in my mind

Those to whom I once gave my life, those who now pretend I’m a wisp of wind dismissed as nothing.

I dreamed of place called home but in the name there was no truth

No house, no neighborhood, not a single ‘you’ who embraced me and said ‘this is where we stand together.’

The truth is that home is being with the people you love who love you. But what is home when you find it and that ain’t it?

Not the people you love who love you but something you can’t touch or see or hold or be.

In my dream even though my family was there, my house was there, my neighborhood was there, my city was there yet all I felt was an obsessive desire, a primal need

To jump in the roiling waves of the sea and dissolve into molecules & atoms of water

Particles of stars & eons & dust

Where I dreamed of a place called home

Called death

And it was.

circle-square (2)

Death of an Atheist

by Renee Garcia-Brown

Invisible circle in the air
Step inside the invisible square
Welcome to Nothingland
What do you see?
Nothing at all
Except for me.
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Expect anguish? Regret?
>>> fear?
Fuck that shit

~I like it here~

 

20180813_160405 (1)

 

Cocoon

by Renee Garcia-Brown

I spent a lot of life in a cocoon,
Scared, or just tired recalling battles already fought
Planning for retirement after I’m gone
Monsters slain imagined & human
Evil vanquished, lessons hard-taught

As a kid pulling the blanket over my head
As if that would protect me from
The creatures with glowing eyes and fangs and claws
Who hunt in the night
During the sleep of the sun

Now in waxing age on Sundays when
It feels like I should be dead
I lie on the couch
Wrapped up in a microfiber-fleece cover
Like a shroud for the suburban denizen

And the Nazis & KKK & evangelicals attack
On the TV
& in my mind I come out swingin’ an axe
& a sword, silver cuffs deflecting bullets & epithets
Defiant, shouting “you’ll never make a lampshade outta me!”

In the cocoon of my head
I’m Super Crone
With stacks of glittering diamond rings on my fingers & layers of bracelets in burnished silver and gold
I’ll blind the enemy and with a swish of my scythe
Take his head and a selfie and a side of testosterone

I know time wins all so when I become a corpse
Don’t make any big fuss
Just wrap me in an old sheet
Drive out to the desert
And toss me from the back of a bus

So the beautiful monsters
With glowing eyes & pointed fangs & sharp claws
And slithering things
And scavengers of all stripes and wings
Can party down till my bones are gnawed

But remember to put a dog tag around my neck:
“I died on my own
I chose to be here
Don’t waste tax payer money searching for anyone
This butterfly has flown”

Related Post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.