I leave a star-shaped nightlight I never turn on anymore
plugged into the dusty
outlet in my wall.  Children’s books I haven’t read for years
fill the shelf beside my bed.  Dolls I haven’t played with since
grade school sit in the corner, staring
at me as I live every day without 
them.  I’ve spent hours picking up those princess dolls, cataloging memories we share, analyzing their sentimental worth,
wondering if they’d be better off waiting
in a Goodwill for some little kid who really wants
them.  But I keep them here anyway, hoarding a past
I can’t bear to give away.  

For the first time in my life, part of me wants to grow up,
to leave home, to be free, to be an independent woman, not a girl
who still must ask her parents’ permission to leave the house.
I want to purge my room of the relics that chain 
me to childhood, to make myself anew,
but something in me refuses to let me surrender those memories.
The part of me that wants to throw a tea party on a Dollar Tree blanket
and invite all her dolls,
the part of me that longs to convince my mother
to read my sister and me the longest story
on my shelf so we can stay up
past our bedtime,
the part of me that still wants to turn on that nightlight,
so when I wake in the middle of the night,
I can see the light 
and know that everything is going to be okay.

I appreciate the gifts.

A series of steps
Make up the walks we take

Steps that go in circles
Until we’re tired

Until we sleep

1)
Some say Missouri means people of the long canoes.

2)
The gravel drive led us through a grove of trees
into an opening where a trailer sat surrounded
by an exhibition of broken everything. 3 little dogs
yapped with fury.  After a time a woman, yawning
and gapped-mouth, came out and looked pissed.
I thought meth lab and was already backing up.

3) 
Since the time of Indian removal there have been 
no reservations in Missouri.

4) 
Once we found the Air B&B sign on the mail box
we could breate. Our bedroom was attached
to a wood-working shop where tamahawks
were being crafted. No one was around.
On the wall was a large map of where dozens
of native tribes had lived in Missouri
before 1700.

5)
Population of Missouri: over 6,000,000

6)
It was pouring rain and we had to make a pit stop
in Humansville. Up the road from there
we had to make a detour through Peculiar. 
After that everything cleared up 
and the sun came out.

7)
Number of people in the Missouria tribe:
1780 – 1,000
1805 – 300
1829 – 80
1910 – 13

8) 
The Kansas City Cheifs logo is an arrowhead
with the letters KC.
In my sister’s neighborhood there’s one
on both sides of every double garage.

dreams come difficultly
between digital flashes this
ante meridiem, and
we toss,
in tossing we turn,
and in turning
we toss, and
shake off spasms,
thoughts unbidden
creatures that creep
under eyelids, into
grey matter we can’t
slake, never mind
how hard we wish,
call out, adjust,
squirm
it’s no use
as we lie
inside this world
falling out

string snaps on the violin
sonata ceases
my heart longs to hear some more

He never liked my curls, 
nor the colors of my soul in linen. 

Whenever I stood, stomach bulging and bloated, 
the uncertainty of boyhood dripped and froze as he stared.

“You are so beautiful”
was never offered when my glasses were on. 

Fix your spine. 
Fix your jokes. 
Fix your voices. 
Don’t be loud. 

Don’t wear that. 
Do things for me. 

Sure it’ll pass, but will it?
Are all America’s boys justified nowadays
to slouch against doorways with nothing to say?
….meanwhile women eat away at themselves,
doing a lit review on forgiveness.

forgive me it’s been
awhile since i tried 
to pick apart life 
into a packet of poems
there are two cats
grooming on my bed
and i forget which 
one started it first
and if that really matters?
i hear the screen door
snap outside and 
remember tomorrow
is trash day but i will
wake up and try to 
beat the truck to the curb
and throw all the hot
bags and plastic-dream
to-be recycled and check
off one task to only add
another. there isn’t even
enough time to lick my
skin soft, to pull my hairs
out of my face clean if 
only all i had to do was
take care of myself

                    A takeout box, a small  gesture of affection 
      Upended   with grains  of rice spilling out  like  your guts 
  Rotten with venom when you get angry. You split open- your mouth and your stomach- and I can see the heaving fleshy masses wet with blood and buzzing with insects laying eggs in the grooves.  I stare at it, mesmerized, as you lecture about how people don’t like to be ignored. People don’t like to be yelled at.   It takes Guts   To be so mean. It’s like you forgot how to show care  other  than through food-  The basics of what to provide your   children with  the  shallow  language      of      

                                                                 money .

                 Lately,    I’ve only    talked  to             you from   across                                                    a                         restaurant   table  .

                                                                         What             a                waste    .   
         

(A collage poem constructed from excerpts of the writings of Frederick Douglass and various news article headlines.)

Indeed, it is not uncommon for slaves even to fall out and quarrel among themselves                       

        What Does It Take to Stop Crips and Bloods From Killing Each Other?

about the relative goodness of their masters,  

        Biker war brewing in Chicago as Mongol Nation pushes onto Outlaws Motorcycle Club         turf.                      

each contending for the superior goodness of his own over that of the others.            

        Chicago Bears fan stabbed to death in Jacksonville.

They seemed to think that the greatness of their masters was transferable to themselves.            

        Why Did Trump Supporters Storm the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6?

It was considered as being bad enough to be a slave;             

        Navy SEALs and Marines charged in death of Special Forces soldier.

but to be a poor man’s slave was deemed a disgrace indeed!            

        Homeless man charged with murdering another homeless man in Marathon.