reminders 2:

The bottom’s not so bad

please look down from the pedestal

you belong on, your castle in the sky

I need to see you, to know you - here and there in your ….. immortality.

this godless place has left me with no choice but to find 

idols to 

worship 

and

people to love 

with my seedling heart

that comes from the earth

which is planted by the hand of 

angels

the bottoms not so bad 

(Untitled)

the hole in your denim blanket

that lays down on your bed

is like a rip in the time

space

continuum

it’s a doorway to your supernova world

an invitation

to a birthday party, that might last forever

written in hebrew

and colored with organic dye

it says

come here my darling and

let me hold you

in this new galaxy I will kiss you

because this is my religion (I want to).

your soul is a constellation,

I need to look at it every night

to feel alive here, amongst the

artificial light

UV rays are trying to kill us

you are my sunshine

and all of the light pollution in the

western hemisphere couldn’t keep me

from looking at the sky

but i know in my heart of hearts

that all of that smog

is just a privacy curtain

because there’s all of these angels

that want to

look at you when you’re showering

all of these angels

that want to be closer to you

if it wasn’t there

they would see you naked

i know you know that Joni Mitchell song

that goes like

“you are stardust, you are golden”

it’s true

we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden.

……

the shower curtain is not transparent

and

you’re sneaking glances through the fabric

peeping through the curtain holes,

smiling

being next to you is like sunbathing

it’s 2 pm, February 25

the rain hasn’t stopped, the record scratches

and the harp that those angels play

sing on the recording

oh sweet cherubim

dona nobis pacem

oh sweet angels

just to be close to you.

1)

in ballet class

a teacher mansplains to me

the meaning of

assemble

in the center of the studio, after barre

of course “assemble”

means to assemble

two feet together, 

after jumping in mid-air.

there are so many other things to assemble

in this world.

cookies, whose dough is assembled with my hands

origami, the folds and creases assembled with care

structures, that keep us sheltered, yet also ensnare us

captive in deceptive safety 

in their comfort and obligatory gestures of 

agreement, 

sign the terms and conditions on the dotted line.

don’t forget how to spell your name.

structures, 

intended by architects for shelter

that keep us behind glass

it begs the question if we are all

simply just museum exhibits 

on display 

speaking in hushed tones 

we’ve forgotten how to scream.

(image: Edvard Munch 1893)

2)

it can’t eat you if you can explain it

and if you can put words to it

the belly of the beast is encrusted

with all of the diamonds in the world.

diamonds painted with blood.

their blood.

this

world wasn’t made for you,

he whispers in my ear, pulling back a strand

with a pocket knife.

the goal is to get one of them

to put one of those diamonds on your finger

she says to me with the devil in her eyes

as she kills a cigarette bud,

smoke trailing out of her nostrils.

i wake up from a dream 

Apres un Reve

amid mid sentence my mouth is open and I am 

ready to say my final words before

I succumb to the reaper, 

but

in reverence, I realize that i’m not ready to cross that river by myself

you will never step into the same stream, twice he whispers

my precious, my precious

three times yes

but never twice.

two days later,

a lover is saying the same thing to me

with stardust in his eyes.

mantra, mantra, mantra,

i am trying to convince 

myself to stay. put. one foot. two foot.

I lost my ring in the river, the current took it away

it’s in the belly of the beast

no one ever gives men a hard time when they sit on the wooden steps of a 

building in a perfect blend of concentration and sorrow

but me?

i am trying to convince myself to stay. put.

one foot. two foot.

all work and writing copyright 2023, Lizzie Kramer