Cryptic, Random, Strange, Senseless Poetry

A Non-Name Who influenced you?They ask youdid you name yourself?How did you come upwith these complicated storiesabout the heart that asksquestions about the nose?They say you can smell your lifebetter than you can think it. Remember when you and I playedon the monkey barsand we thought we wereimportant people when we felland scraped our kneesand cried the ugly cry for ourselves?I remember the stink of your red shoes then. Click, click, Dorothy wants to go home,ET phones it in.Big bird sings the alphabetand you and you and I flip channels.Here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson!The scent of your cookie dough is better thanwhen you bake yourself in the oven.Sylvia Plath, I call you when you cry. We didn’t know how to cry for other peoplethen and we never really learnedthat we are matter and matter doesn’t die and it does matter.And we are no different than the starsthat make a dozen mistakes while looking pretty.You ask me how can a lightbe wrong? How can you smell a light? I tell you, you are a light,just because you don’t notice the scent, does not meanYou don’t have one.Why is it that you think you are none?The black hole even knowsI can breathe it in my nose,and it has a name, somebody gave it one. *The Fly We sat on the porchwatching the firefly’srehearsing a ballet in the sky.We didn’t need to see themto understand that beautycan be annoying,A buzz near your ear.Or a black fly trying to make itin a world that hates tiny facesthat have no name.We plot to kill you and you know it.I will name you my friendyou are the first to noticethat world is burning down.You don’t knowYou don’t knowhow hard it is to smile whilefaces and places are all around mebut I barely can recognize myself.I’m a girlwho cannot see the nuancesyou see.I think I cannot fly. * Are you Free? Do you think you own yourselfor do you see even that as abetrayal of your freedom?You cannot own beautySo how can you be beautiful?I think flowers in the rainare freedom and in essenceyour pain is a form of oppression.By nature, by your mind. I changed my nameso you could pronounce it.I changed my hairso you could like it.I walked to the leftinstead of the rightso you would know where I stood. I am compulsive.Politics asidedo you think I’m pretty?Do you think I’m sad?Do you wonder if I could dancewith you in a gardenof purple hyacinths? Step this way and thatuse your words, see your rhythm.Don’t trip on the wireeveryone always forgetsabout the chord,in the way of our Wednesdays.We are always in the middleNever be too shy to fall downin the middle of the week.In the middle of your life,when you can see forward and back.When else will you be you? *Fruit I was thinking of making sensethat day, when you said youbrushed your teeth for me.And I didn’t notice that bitinginto apples creates our lives.That we need nothing morethen a fruit and a fairytaleto keep us occupied.With lies and flies andand strawberry lipsyou kissed me with your watermelongoodbyes. And the wayyou looked at meI could have sworn I saw the moonin your raspberry smile.There is a seed in your mouthThat tells me everything I need to knowabout growing a garden. Slices of orange and the wayI peeled a grape only to feelits essence in my hands. I felt dirty that dayAnd you knew what I didn’t say.You stood there in the doorway,singing a song you made up.None of us are cleanlike the dirt that makes the fruit.We are also made of earthEven though we don’t know its name.  *Re-runs I sat with the TV on watching a surprise party on a Friends re-run.Then I turn to you and say, this one is like Golden Girlsand you look at me as if I told you the earth was triangular.And you say how many times can we watch this episodebefore we memorize the ending, know all the jokes.And I ask you what will happen next.You say wait until the applause, you’ll figure it out when you hear yourselfin their voices over and over again.You lit a cigarette that time you watched the Cheers finale one more time.You said you wanted everyone to know your name.They don’t. You will have to tell them over and over again. nina