TINA CELONA
VARIATIONS
There is some rotting fruit on the ground,
a melon and some bananas. The men are sated and lie back on the ground naked. They
are interested in each other’s athleticism and their interest is not sexual.
Where are the women? The women are absent. The colors are green and gold and
black (shadow). I want to fight the men who look so tired. I want to revive
them and straighten their shoulders. I want to transpose them to another
painting and wipe their faces and give them sustenance. I want to give them
milk.
--
The woman has a man’s face. She is staring
at her parts. Her breasts denote womanhood. She is in gray. She is naked and
she props herself up on her arms. The ground takes up most of the canvas. I
want to fight her and hide her belly folds. I want to fight myself with all my
arms against all my arms. The pain causes me to become rigid and when I fight
myself I know I am not coming back. This is totally fine with me.
POP
CORPSE
for
Stephanie
When I’m older I
write only once a week. The rest of the time I heal and drink juice cocktails
and read and talk to people. This method seems to work for me and over time I
even start to fart poems. The Corcoran asks me to do
an exhibit of poems associated with infrared photographs of farts. I spend days
matching poems to the right farts, finishing in just enough time to drive to
Florida and see my great-uncle, my separated cousin, and her two babies.
A boy can be your
boyfriend without actually being your boyfriend. On the way you stop to wander
through Glen Echo Park. The ancient cries of fun echo and re-echo. Years later
I remember holding your hand. My memory is unreliable.
Favorable
notice in another paper. On the fire escape the man asked me if I had
hyperthyroid condition. Offended, I insisted my thyroid was normal.
I realize that I have been as repressed in
my poetry as I have been foolish in real life. When my writing goes well I
attribute it to God. When I kissed you in the car I blamed myself. We were in
the church for hours discussing our favorite cathedrals. There is always
something I have not bothered to remember.
You are my secret best friend. I am a gas
station attendant. When someone gives me a tip it is like I have done something
great. I feel great as I pump gas.
.