Disposable
Disposable
By Marie Gordon
You dropped me
Like a plastic razor
You toss in the can
After a dull shave
You cleaned up
The little black fragments
Of hair in the sink
And you forgot me
As I sobbed
Little red specks faded
Into the fabrics
In my laundry pile
Red turns brown
As time forgets that blood
Once vital soon dies
Or so I was told
So I washed
Scrubbed the stains of you off
Of clothing, off me
But you were still there
I felt you
As I scrubbed you sunk in
Deep in my tissue
Deeper, in my fears
Vital lust
It faded ever quick
But not so fast the pangs
That your lust had tripped
I begged you
Perhaps not out of greed
Or even for pride
But for vital signs
That spoke soft
To me and told the truth
Of a growing heart
Drumming from your lies
Oh sweet truth
How bitter greed deceives
Dormant but to plague
My youth as you wipe
The shavings
That you assume remain
All that’s left of me
On your tidy sink
And far out
From bitter consequence
Your thoughts idly drift
While flecks clog the drain
Perhaps truth
You never grew enough to face
While I hardly blinked
To spill childish tears
Oh God forgive
The heart that wishes true
Such soured lies
And the lips that sinned
Truth, grow strong
Within my little cave
That will ache for you
As you shave your stubbly chin
playing cross sections
Playing cross-sections
By Marie Gordon
Take a slice of my bone
As if I were a tree
And try to guess my age
From traces of old breaks
Take a piece of my brain
As if I were a chip
Insert it in your drive
Will you watch my story
Maybe you’ll hide your screen
Or turn the volume down
Even if you don’t please
Will you try not to judge
I wonder if you’ll cry
When you watch the sad parts
And that one violent scene
Will you understand me
Watch the story then see
If it matches the bone
Will you dismiss the tale
If the bone is too fresh
Or maybe hit rewind
When you write your results
Examine the bone’s marks
Magnify them to check
Maybe I’m a young bone
Without the thickest trunk
Lacking rings but holding
The density of life
Laundry heap romance
Laundry heap romance
By Marie Gordon
Don’t look at me
I’m not the one
Who frosted the cupcakes
With a fork
You crush my hopes
Of eating out
Nibbling carry-out wings
By myself
You leave the sink
After shaving
Littered with chest hair
You chuckle
Then patronize
The one that scrapes
Your chocolate bunnies
Off the floor
If you loved me
You would vacuum
The tile at minimum
So I thought
I’ve scrubbed your stains
For the last time
You laugh in disbelief
Some stains bleed
Love Tough
Love tough
By Marie Gordon
I’ll wait up for you ‘til three
Fold your faded shirts
And iron your slacks
As if to nudge you along
I’ll watch you from the sidelines
For the trailing match
And cheerlead you on
Hang in for another round
I’ll sweep up the broccoli
Left from your cooking
And hope you take note
Of me or the polished floor
But if you’ll see me today
It won’t be the next
That I’ll soak your shoes
So you’ll wear them with a smile
No it won’t be tomorrow
If we meet today
And if I push you
You’ll send me home with my bags
Perhaps you knew all along
That I’d loved too deep
And you just so much
To know love wasn’t enough
Said the tree to the squirrel
Said the tree to the squirrel
By Marie Gordon
If I feed you for life
Will you be my squirrel
Will you scamper over me
And entertain
If I nourish your games
Will you let me watch
Or stand in for a picture
And be your friend
If I give you a home
Will you be my squirrel
That scratches and climbs my trunk
That calls me home
If I give you my limbs
And I feed you too
Will you etch into my veins
A greedy sign
If I give you all this
Will you warm my limbs
Will you embrace me with paws
And be my squirrel
The ever-moon
The ever-moon
by Marie Gordon
It’s 3am at night
I’m ticking half awake
You’re in the foggy grey
That’s clouding my contacts
In my empty beer can
Over the piling trash
My eyes fall comatose
On the remnants of you
You are the night that seeps
And hollows out my brain
You are the one that doused
My giving with your greed
Bring back the rainy days
The sun that dully shines
The drizzling heart that kept
Its tenderness on hand
Fade out, fade out cruel moon
That purples arid eyes
And blood lets bulging hearts
Like rising red balloons
You’ve drizzled my goodbyes
Into my pink sclera
You’ve got your pound of flesh
It’s time to pack your camp
The happy campers
by Marie Gordon
Little bugs in my brain
Make antsy thoughts
They twirl tiny batons
Like a giggling campus
Little bugs leave this brain
Shiver and twitch
Until your chants subside
So I can rest my hands
They sing melodic tunes
And play their horns
Shaking spongy tissue
Inside my jell-o brain
Pack up and scamper out
You pesky fools
Who twist and gobble thoughts
And flint nap thorns from seeds
They have set their campground
Built a fire pit
And roasted marshmallows
Until my brain explodes
And my heated brain melts
Solidifies
Until they roast again
On my amygdala
The director
The director
By Marie Gordon
You bobbled with my head
Playing trumpets in my ears
Casting spotlights over my face
Only to pull the plug
When it got too bright
For you were in the wings
Snatching up my every line
Ready to cue me so falsely
Dare I forgot a line
It was your light and sound
Your blocking, your direction
That left me standing center stage
Without a word of life
Centerpiece
Centerpiece
By Marie Gordon
Hanging on your walls
And over your sinks
I am silent décor
I am your centerpiece
Resting on sofas
Adorning loveseats
I am brilliantly soft
I am coldly yours
Hung from little hooks
I dangle captive
To captivate your guests
To be your still life
Under your footrest
Gripping wax columns
I am your hearth piece
Your stillborn décor