today is the day that i clean up my life for
the voices that tell me otherwise i have stowed
away in urns upon the mantle like fingers pointing to the
ceiling in my mind where cloaded and dark my
thoughts circulate in storm systems that spell out a language
written in a glowing electicity
yes today i will clean up my life by
extracting the tirednesses that cling to and color my body
i unfurl them with a snap
cuting into fragments the halo of stale, smoke-filled air while
throwing out into the spaces that remain
the smell of linen and bleach then
folding them neatly into drawers designed for waiting
waiting
unitl i retrieve them once again
to make a bed
in which i will sleep
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"You can never predict what will happen when the body moves from dimension to dimension--sometimes it merges sometimes it shatters sometimes it dons overdetermined eye make-up and mimics Liza Minnelli." Dodie Bellamy, _The Letters of Mina Harker_, 139
About Me
- commodifiedqueer
- i am a professor, i teach rhetoric and writing, exploring queer spaces, cultural studies, feminism, race, ethnicity, animal rights, afro cuban art, diasopora, african amercian women writers, middle passage, slave narrative but to be quite honest i am always in a constant space of grief, oh and i should be trying to publish something, whatevs
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