Great Advice for When You Think You're Being Followed with Malicious Intent According to Cosmopolitan Magazine

Make three left turns, then call 911.
Just ask the poets,
the starlets.

Found Poem: Blood Sugar, January Twelve Years Later

At fourteen, my favorite poet wrote lines like,

"I want to speak hot metal fluently."

And

"Watching the suitors stagger home,
Now I'm butcher, now you're bone."

And

"Young girls tie ribbons around their slender throats
trying to keep their heads on."

On the cover in blood,
I DID IT FOR YOU stained the twenty-something poet's tits.
And Christ, I thought she was stunning.

So, it should not
surprise me now
that remarks from her elegy
overlap perfectly
with my twenty-something own.

"They will not know how many people
you brought into your life to inspire you.
When the affair would disintegrate
you'd say, 'Well, at least I got a poem out of it.'"

I'm just surprised that she's still alive.






_____________________________________________
Excerpts from Nicole Blackman's collection, "Blood Sugar"
Poems:
"What I Want for Christmas (and other holidays where we speak of dead men."
"Chrome"
"The Ambitions Are"
"Elegy

Monday: Do Not Buy Me Gifts

Mirrors lean on walls

One: white frame, rectangular

Two: round, turquoise, robin’s egg.

Neither of which belong to her. A symbol, I wonder

for the ease with which all could be (has been?) abandoned.

Finally, at last and at once. 

Two red pots

A box of paints

packed, into the passenger side

of the only car she’s ever owned.

Nodding toward the easel in the corner

“More paint, fewer strokes.”

and two small foxes emerge.

Displeased, a third is produced

and the laundry tumbles.