Aeneas would have but technology had not yet allowed it so he just walked away and turned to board the fleets. He should have said "see you in hell, bitch" but I guess he didn't think of it at the time. He saw her there anyway--unhappy Dido. Like the rest of us she thought it was a marriage bed. Even Odysseus made the return for the wedding bed. Swatted the suitors away like flies on your prized birthday cake rotting at the picnic table. This doesn't mean that epics have happy endings. This doesn't mean that all heroes are tragic. But there of no use to my reading list unless I can underline their fatal flaw. Shew fly don't bother me. Shew fly don't bother me.They arent break-up words anyway, that's not what I want. It's more like negotiating with terrorists, except I'm the terrorists and the hostage and you have to be the negotiator. You have to convince me to give myself back to myself while meeting my demands.
You can hate me for saying it, but I'm not writing it for you. I'm writing it for the gentleman with sparkling eyes. I'm following the soles of their shoes because they did the greatest job when tearing pieces off my dress. They made the scraps of fabrics into robes and they promise to where them some day soon. They promise to this and they promise to that but it doesn't matter because they don't read this. I don't even have to make them swear. I don't grab their pinky fingers, the ones that I can wrap my whole hand around. I stopped asking anyone to put their hand on their heart.
I say "are you going to fight for me?" I scream "can't you paint my kitchen!" Unhappy Dido &now all she has to is understand destiny and watch cable television.
We fall on the floor in another country. We've made a world wide tour of locking ourselves in bathrooms. Barricading the door as the line pounds from outside and I scream "fuck you! we are dying!"
And he screams "fuck you! we are dead!" And the men who say they mean it, well they don't scream at me at all. They stay rational, they keep their voices steady.
I'm the bad kid in class and you're the teacher that has all the proper training.
I'm the tumor that your doctors can't seem to find but that doesn't mean you get to feel better anyway.
I think our cycles of human interaction are like the phases of the moon. I want to print out the calendars and hang them all over the apartment. The one where it tells you what time the sun rises & sets. Or the one with a joke-a-day. A joke a day calendar on my desk, with my light hair I'll have the world laughing. They'll be slapping their knees saying "you can ask me anything, gorgeous." And I try and remember when the word meant something.
Knock knock?
Who's there?
Can I take out all of your insides?
Can I take out all of your insides who?
Can I take out all of your insides because I already did!
And he just laughed and laughed and laughed.
Different doctors started approaching us, and all for different reasons. One said the disease was in my mouth, the other my fingers. One took out a camera & I spent the better part of four hours asking a paramedic about the lines on my palms. Will I live long? Will I live long? He does that thing that men do when they smile at you and frown at the same time. Knock knock.
Go to the movies and check your e-mail in the kitchen so I can pretend I know the difference between twenty and two hundred dollars.
They're filming a movie across the street. I didn't realize it at first, that the bystanders were extras looking at a car crashed in at the gas station. The men with their cameras and the big white screen. The abandoned gas station which is for me to look at and Buddy to shit on and here comes a crew thinking they are going to make millions.
I am glad it felt real good. I am always glad to hear it. I can hear anything. I leave my ear plugs in all the time now. It's softer that way, I'm not alarmed. I don't jump.
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