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"untitled" issue
december 2002
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kimberley bones diamond
Just Passing By
big red shiny truck looks familiar
it’s the one I saw drive by last month
as I carried my bags in from the car
twisting his neck as he lights his cigarette
taking his eyes off the road
yes it’s him again
he turns the corner passes right by the driveway
I live on a big street
he could be going anywhere
nice truck
I won’t remember if you pay me back
I saw you drive by
and later I was thinking
nice truck
maybe he could afford to pay me the money
now I really could use it
and even later I was
oh yeah
his dad paid me some of it already
but it was so long ago
I didn’t remember
get to know someone
like it makes any difference
I was at his first wedding, his first divorce
we both dated no one not each other for years
he told me there was a reason
and I didn’t want to
I don’t remember then
when we used to talk on the phone for hours
just call because we met someone or lost someone or
there was time to fill
I remember things like the car wash and the picnic table
and the money
the gymnastics I thought
hanging from the chandelier was just an expression
twirling like a top on the tip of his tongue
It took me years to get over the lies, the betrayals
and even if I ever get over the money,
I’ll never get over the sex.
Awakening
I thought an angel
tickled my shoulder
the 5 am sun rises
gently through layers of lace
like feathers softly brush my cheek
whiskers
(nose cat wings)
watching over me
Hiding Places
Loneliness will find you
under all the covers,
even in your lover's arms.
The voices I hear are real,
they are telling me-
I am not worthy of the time I've wasted
I should have been important,
They are wondering if this is normal
If I need help.
Victims parade across the news,
it really is someone else's fault.
The face of the criminal caught on a grainy film
looks like a guy in a hat looks vaguely familiar
and the newsman hangs out at a dance club near here on Fridays,
where he shows up still in makeup after work.
If only I could blame my uncle
for lifting the blankets and standing there,
for staring at me when he thought I was asleep,
or my parents for when
they screamed at one another
or the teacher who had to be convinced I didn't cheat.
sometimes I still show up
you can just make me out
in the middle of a crowd
hiding among friends, family, acquantainces, strangers
I pretend I don't see
I pretend I don't hear
I pretend I don't care;
I can't wait until it's time to go.
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