Landscapes of the Mind - Poems

Misery & Co.

You steel yourself

against their numb, dumb faces,

well-intended questions,

as you take on the guise of who

they think you are;

pinning the old,

uncomfortable smile to your lips

to keep theirs shut ---

a safety pin, you latch the end

and get to work

setting the tables,

arranging plates & silverware,

forks and knives

All the sharp, dangerous implements

you invite them to cut you with

because you know

they'll do it anyway.

So give the customer what he wants

in hopes he will get full sooner

and leave.

It's frightening

how you function ---

going about like something

mechanical, hot off the assembly

line. Your veins

aren't veins, but

red and blue electrical wires

run on caffeine, sugar, blood

and little sleep.

Nobody sees

the blue flames

licking your heels,

all has to be just-so, just-so

So, finally you get good

at chewing the fat.

You laugh at all their tasteless

jokes that are not funny,

while inside

you crouch and nurse your wounds.

They eat, get drunk, and are merry.

But you count tears, not blessings,

and life is a holiday

you'd much rather not celebrate.

Still, smile, until your mouth hurts.

Laugh, until your side splits.

Only in solitude,

when the dirty plates are stacked

in the sink; when

the company's gone home,

and your bedroom door is closed and locked ---

Then, and only then

can you peel off

the pinching shoes, let down

hair pinned tightly

at the nape of your neck,

allow the bloodied bandages

to fall to the floor ---

let your mascara melt ---

unravel, slowly, and become

pink and soft again,

just vulnerable enough

to be yourself again.