How To, Francesca Block [sight word readers TXT] 📗

walls called art

kept her collages private

intricate and glistening as hidden body parts

her husband stopped having sex with her

she doubted her poetry

because a mean bulimic woman

told her she couldn’t write

she took up african dance and then brazilian

because they honored rather than denied her ass

helped her heal her marriage

and the scars of ballet and anorexia

she danced into the arms of the drummer

they could have been brother and sister

he read her a poem on their first date

she was still married when she made love to him

left her husband almost right away

married again in the hills above malibu

dancing on the crest above the sea

with white flowers in her hair

she gave birth to two children

decorated her house in pink and green velvet

teaches thirteen year olds literature every day

comes home and cooks dinner every night

writes her books on the weekends

the war makes her so mad she needs meds

she’s okay though

her husband still wants her whenever possible

still reads her poetry aloud

she has finally discovered

the brutality is not inside of her

however there are many roses, there are altars,

there are stories

miranda

blonder

stronger

smarter

but motherless

you were easy prey

to monsters

who knows how vile

what they did to you

no wonder you sought out the most beautiful man

as a means of escape

told him your whole nightmare tale

it was not your fault he ran

any girl in your situation needs a friend

after the dollhouse was smashed

but miranda you got off

the island

before it was too late

you gathered your shards your twigs

your surf pounded shells

lipsticks and flower petals a shiny beaded earring

wild parrot feathers

many books

made a nest of words

in which to lay your eggs

your father may burn

his books of magic

and abandon the sprite once locked in a tree

but not you miranda

not you

fairy sisters: for sukha

it was hard to understand what they called reality

babies died

men left

mothers grieved and turned to pills

wars existed

wars?

religion itself

baffled us

even mortality seemed wasteful and ungenerous

inherently imperfect

there was so much to do

that was why we obsessed on pretty things

frozen yogurt or candy

dance and poetry

golden shoes with pale suede platform soles

twinkling necklaces

essence of vanilla and lavender

in a base of wild white sage

and vervain

reminded us of where we had come from

then there were the elf boys

of course we wanted them

desperately

their minds their hearts their seed

they recognized us and made us feel less afraid

but they were lost, too

above ground

needed weed and solitude

instead of so much sugar

kisses

and adornments

the world looks different

without the comfort of soil and roots

the place where flowers are

born

happi happi joy joy and sad in hawaii

happi wanted to take sad to hawaii

happi’s friend had gotten her two free tickets

happi had many friends and they were always

giving her things

happi wanted to see sad basking in the sun

healing the scars on his back

sipping a fruity drink

and watching the sunset on the waves

but sad had never heard that bit of folk wisdom—

if you knew you were going to die tomorrow

wouldn’t you feel stupid for not eating more

birthday cake

or, it should be added, going to hawaii?—

so sad did not go

happi was quite adept at traveling alone

she packed a bikini and some shades and a lovely

printed cotton sundress

and got on the plane by herself

it is important to note that happi had not

experienced any less pain

than sad

she had just learned the lesson about birthday cake

much better than he had

he needed to learn a lot

in spite of his excellent taste in film and literature

and his swooning, crackly-voiced compassion

and as the sun turned the sea into

a tropical mixed drink

and the stars came out above the cabana

happi realized that she would wait for sad

for as long as it took

but that in the meantime she would not stop eating

birthday cake

or traveling to exotic places

or dancing with her friends

pleasure and sweetness and love

yxta

this fairy had been so close to death

she had dined at his long metal coffin-shaped table

and sat on his belly

and he had kissed her charming lips

but then he had let her go

she sang him such sweet songs

about the most devastatingly beautiful

women of history

and she danced so seductively

like a little tibetan goddess with many arms

and also she had this man who loved her so much

so bravely and selflessly

how could death

thus spellbound

take her away?

so the fairy was released from death’s

gripping fingers

and she went back to the man who loved her

so much

and she sang him her songs

and danced him her dances

and when she smiled she showed off

her tiny charming fangs

but the wings were definitely a problem

sprouting from her sharp white shoulder blades

little feathery things

and she tried to pluck them out

because who would take seriously a vampire

with wings?

but they kept growing back

no matter how hard she tried

reminding her of who she really was

and would be for all eternity

titania

somehow there on the street the only two

eyes turned at the same moment mouths dropped

open

titania

on a dirty sidewalk yellow roses angel curls

black rhinestones white wrists

my heart just hours before cracked

so wide by grief

born of fear

in you walked

both of our defenses gone we saw

as if for the first time

and forever

how did we lose each other for so long?

where were you?

at the birth of twin nieces

day and night

on a stage naked and mythic in madonna’s

extensions

you were there

when the planes hit the towers

ran through the city past the people dressed in ash

the panicking cops the silent hospitals

without bodies to be saved

you fell into your sudden lover’s arms

moved back to the country bought a trailer

a loudspeaker so everyone could hear

sat inside with your red lipstick mouth

your cacao bean vanilla voice

talked to everyone heard their stories

it was a little like when you volunteered to massage

rescue workers

the only thing that healed holocaust survivors

they say

was touch and talk

where was i?

having babies