New poems by Puma Perl
that woman she falls in love
that woman
she falls in love
too easy
the big man
said as he
washed
his car
smiling
at the kid
sitting on a crate
watching
the kid
nodded
knowingly
i
want
to know too
who is she?
the woman
who falls
easy
in love
is her hair
red
does she
cook
every day
does she live
in the projects
where a
big man
washes
his car
and a kid
watches
* * * *
sounds like last tuesday
a guy asked me where I lived
he said theres no such street
hope I make it home ok
my kids fathers watched sesame street
they wanted to fuck Maria
educational tv sucks
my friends wear size 2
they order egg whites and blueberries
i sit my fat ass down and eat pancakes
i hung out with people for a week
home alone I shook them off like fleas
3 days later I havent recovered
strip malls sell spiritual enlightment
parking spaces are provided by God
matchbook cover says Become a Life Coach!
i decided to be a nun
take vows of silence and celibacy
sounds like what I did last tuesday
between us we had 7 kids 3 jobs 2 cars
42 rehabs, 3 prescriptions, and a diagnosis
I really thought it would work
another time i fell in love
i drove him home he stole my car
he brought it back he still calls
my friends believe in laws of attraction
thoughts control actions, secrets cure cancer
I tell them it will rain just to be mean
crystals chakras colors sigh
id be dead
if I wasnt still alive
* * * *
walking home
street merchants
drink beer
argue
whats the problem?
no problem
im easy
easy as a sunday afternoon
sunday morning
i automatically correct him
sunday morning
he agrees with a nod
sunday morning
tattoo purple bruised boy
staggers frantically
rapid eyes and words
he is my unborn child
the one without a chance
i love pathmark
musclebound men
in wheelchairs
buy vegetables
i want to sit on their laps
and eat oreos
stray methadonian
made the late pick-up
he balances 3 plastic bags
a daily news a beer
how ya doin
he rasps at me
we know our own
man walking bike
dreads to waist
begs for my phone number
i point vaguely to a window
tell him thats my husband
he rides off
in the elevator
tiny asian boy
re-enacts the news
from Virginia
points at his head
pow! thats what he did
his sister explains
he loves that story
i carry notebooks
write on envelopes
at traffic lights
lean on mailboxes
sit on strange stoops
pull words from the air
songs from the street
stories from my scarred mind
ideas touch my spirit
as they fall from the sky
* * * * *
Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.