Guess I’m that kind of dyke
with the 1930’s curly cues
in 2013
sometimes slicked
dark, slippery
thoughts, down my noggin
talkin’ about my period.
Oh menses!
Me traes mensa
not like the geniuses either.
My body, the things you
do to it.
Each year, sharper with age
each childless year,
just one more reason to be
sharper, like RAGE.
My monthly drag
have me wrapped in herbs
warm wraps,
my midsection mummified,
have me stiff in bed
afraid of the cold,
afraid to be out
and about since that one time
…weak.
Had me driving like a cholo,
down the 110 South,
when you kicked me
in my gut.
I slouched down in my seat
grabbed my guts.
No better time to have them!
I kicked into control
my emotions
like ANGER
you blurred my vision
like heat on a road.
One hand on my guts
the other on the wheal
I navigated my vehicle
played it cool.
“Focus, stay in the moment,”
like with ANGER.
I cracked my window
the wind dried my brow
then I felt hot
my lips cracked
yet I shivered.
Cranked the heat up
Ahhhh
Breathed a little
cause my heart
you cranked that bitch up.
“Stay in the moment!”
Hair, my whiskers
shivered under my exhales
controlled the vehicle
looked down the road,
an exit
stop, coming up.
Almost there.
There there
my ovaries there
my throbbing vagina, there
the sweat, so much
sweat caught in my hair.
Gurgle, gurgle my guts
about to erupt.
So fucken confused.
Up my throat?
Down my butt?
Explosion…
pulled to the side of the road.
Woooo!
Woooo!
“Remember, it’s all perception”
I remind me
Calm
Feel
“What am I feeling?”
I lean over and dry heave
Calm
Feeling better.
Away,
I move on like ANGER.
I got you menses!
“You and I are right here,”
I arrive
You’re home
to find the bathroom in repair.
My face got paler
the old repair men
inch their way
OUT OF MY WAY!
She’s here, La Lupe
my menses
me traes como mensa.
All pasty my cheeks
so I wipe
my brow on my sleeve.
I feel tired
so I wipe
then flush and wash.
My clean hands guide
me to bed.
I crawl in breathing slowly
count to 10
like with ANGER
then I’m out in a cloud
of fatigue, passed out
from passing pain.
Severe, my ovaries
feeling nipple-clamped
my uterus feels grated
not sexy like
nails down my back.
My back, you get it all
tight- pinche corset!
Crisscrossed
muscles, nerves
my wires all crossed.
Assume the position!
Hands clasped.
Knees to my throat.
Eyes…tight, shut
down my system
in penance to you.
Lupe, my menses
bring me to my knees,
I am weak
with your force.
For you I bleed
but suffer no more
like ANGER
no more.
Oh, menses.
Confessional. Witness. Archive. A grounding, where nothing….where I don’t come to die. Ever. My wishing well. My #WriteOrDie I hope this is a treasure for those that find it.
Monday, January 7, 2013
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