Poetique

LOVING
by Jessica DePue

A man layers in bed with a woman
His body is lean and long
He touches her lightly

She lets him lift her skirt
Although it is already missing
He presses his fingers on her flesh
Although it is more than his fingers

A man layers in bed with a woman
Her body is round and moist
She angles to invite him over

He lets her extend this invitation
Although he is already on his way
She places him sideways against her
Against her against her against her

He is lean and long
She likes him this way
One foot above her

He positions up to her
Hips to hips, eyes to eyes
They see eachother
Through and through

She says this and that to him
He is happy to hear her
Sometimes it sounds like she's aching

It makes him hurry to cover her

She throws off the covers
He is sweating through her now
She tells him to keep going

He does

They will kiss after this
They will hold hands and peak
Their knees and palms tangled
In one steady mass

She will roll over
Quiet and restful
He will sigh, watch
His breath warm her neck

WHAT WORDS MEAN
By Jessica DePue

I wrote this poem
It meant nothing
It meant alot
I showed words
Inscripting my body
Words are words
They. Like. To.
Sometimes
Confess, accuse
Clarify, misconstrue
Words are words
They mean nothing
Mean alot- you
Make literal
Assume a possum is a possum
Not a creature with razor teeth
Rats tail- not a disgusting
Specimen in my poem
Athough my flow
Of syntax be figurative- you
Assume visions of empty space
Fill in blanks
Where.
I leave out answers
Tricks to scramble loose ends
Lose mends, lost minds
Seam to seem
Without reason
Lustre of seasons
I pour nonsense in gallons
Make you itch with voids
Laughing, annoyed
Refusal to disarm
Proofs, theories
Make truth of knowledge-
Its only what we know...
Its only what we think we know
What do I know?
My body's shell
Can of organs
Bucket of fluids
Rhythms and pains
Four walls one ceiling
Housing pain
I try to forget
Time to time
I succeed in this
What is literal
Is real iz
Hardly here at all
What words create
Iz not here at all
An invisible present
Opened my dream's seran cling
Stark presence
Frightens the cat
Races wind to raise pores
To caution or warn
I am full of words
An incongruent mass of lexicon
In my head, tatooed
A rogue
With syllabols too many
Feeling too much
Sharpening the blade
Shaving odd ends neatly
In my head
Onto the floor
Dirt, dust
The moon is a word
A circumferance, a blurb
Spotting night
My lips form the tunnel
My mind sees a shape
In the sky
It is anything you call it
Always the moon
In its rite
Pale, ignited
Impale my heart with relic things
Turn sleep into my lazy gain
If I could get there
Where to?
You listen too
Implore towards more
Than words, tell me
That's beautiful

A NIGHT AT HOME
By Jessaica DePue

Your boyfriend is driving
He'll be home in awhile

He's British
You don't understand every word

But you like his accent
He makes you happy

Makes you laugh
Every time you say "what again"...

Sometimes you're kidding
He never minds

Maybe you will make it to the bar
Its midnight already, maybe not

You are freshly showered, shaved
Shorn legs and all you like smooth

Perfume would mask the lather over lap
Of soap, it's clean so you skip the smelly

Stuff. Fighting Cock, aged 6 years, young
You do shots with your room mate

Who talks too much yet keeps you
Company. Sometimes you think

I'm too old to have a room mate
I thought I'd be a famous artist

(by now)With a high ceiling loft
In San Francisco where the cool cats roam

Or harbor themselves inside from the cold
The heater is stuck in your L.A. home

It's charming though, hard wood
Old and cute in that sort of way

You think maybe I'll write something
That will get published. It makes you smile

With Sunday between you and early work
Monday morning. That screw assed job

Holds weights on your manner, free
As a bird. Another shot

Of Fighting Cock makes up lost time
Candles before flourescent lighting

The shot glass says "Alcatraz"
Souvenir from the San Fran drug store

You slipped a little south
Things in Los Angeles are good

The weather is hella' sunny
The Brits at your local pub-

They all love this weather, rave and gloat
With sunburned accents, drunken smiles

You just tried an at home touch up
On your roots, tried to save big bucks

Those salons sock it to young women
Who go for big blonde, old ones too

Its a shallow look but you're Texan
You go back to your roots

Even if your roots need some work
You like it and you jacked it up

This time its brassy
Needs to be toned down

Start chemistry on your hair shaft
And expect the worst...

Fighting Cock
Bad hair job

Nothing's perfect.



SIMPATICO
By Jessica DePue

Fill in the blank.
He feels in my ________. Lately I can
Run forever I am
Busting through windows, smiling bloody toothy
Grinning like that
Dreams leak broken glass, stain
His legs and mine he gets comfy
By my side entwined soft skin, flexed thigh
Muscles hold him dearly near
He sheds tears for my own
He feels me closely his empathies
Touch my face with wet sentiment
I am falling in love it cements
Afloat this warm fluid and warmth up to our waists
I hit the bar, slam
A Long Island, another
Faster please so we may expedite our friendship
Duplicate ourselves as friends slide by slide
Hands travel fast, pause in middle alleys
This xx bends over backwards before his xy
She wants her tits to jut, wants to add another x
To her resume because she needs attention
Her face is pretty mean
I mean pretty and mean and almost not pretty
From the back door he sees me
Retrieves me for more
So gosh so gee golly darned dern
He's tall, he's ready to leave
He's ready to skip the drama abusers
Amuse us they do, they will continue too
I'm ready to get on him get going on
Home to laugh to give in to our own
Special needs
Me? I'm a bleeder. It's internal
It clots. I sing terrible kareoke
I was again hoping maybe perhaps maybe we could uh-
Go waste sets of sheets
Feel some skin get in his heat sips on me
But he feels my oh so slowly slight blur
Whirring why why why and pointing
(Never!) again to that hallway behind
There were ways he placed his hands
To make me familiar to the light
That cue every morning, for touch
I'm conditioned to watch
Dawn creeping in at our window panes
Our emergence of wills undress us again
I close my eyes keep them closed
Keep closing them tight as he comes
He is already here
Inside my place
I've invited him to visit
To rush in and stay
Yet I catch him in dreams
Pinching my synapsis to remind me its real
Its the real deal its a wonder
No wonder we savor each piece
Before I resolve into him
Disolve ourselves into ourself
One self as we sleep
Morning makes his tears like mine
Melt into my cheeks
Beautiful sympathy, simpatico
Let flow that rhythm he brings me
To him(You bring me
To you)
Back to my whole heart

INDISCRIMINATE EMPATHY
by Jessica DePue

Maybe is definately limbo
We straddle left right always
Seek balance both sides logical/nonsensicle
Equilibrium left
Heart beating my chest's almost middle
Operative words left brain right brain
Cerebral cortex imbued with awareness
Grey matter matter's not after all
My other hand lost, is clumsier
Without yours holding
Your balance your steady back side
I lean I lay low lie flat
Kinetic inside
Motionless sleep beside
(you understood) That prehistoric rhythm
Four limbed fish clawing land finally
Carving grooves to petrify bones inside
Shells with sea sounds whispering
The deafened sigh of empty space
I can't fill everything preferred to be
Anything aside of numbness O.K. feeling
From this angle light filters itself
Blood through a gash oxygen
Gives blue red to dry
Beneath the door one inch lets open a gate hinge
Gives your shadow the hall to cruise
Way back and forth stepping on cracks out there
Over each beam bearing my gaze
Eye you challenged near my absence
As breath fogging my lungs
Your temperature moderate forecast misty
My eyes hear your eyes darting there
My ears see you listen
For my pale likeness where?
You never knew to lift some burden
How come? How good feels
That screaming wreckage through glass
Throwing it
Before impact smashes itself to vanish
Yesterday's half lives with it
How pretty shards and pieces imagine can you
Glistening the reflection of blotted grief
Clock's minute hand on our second slow stretch
Back to you whose heart adapted stasis
Beats once per day then swallows air in holes
Chokes on moisture which tastes of tears
Apart from this
Apart from me
Insist
You have been gone
Resist
You will be broken
Which way?
Points to never
Siamese cat goes cross eyed
Each time it zeroes on prey
Who may be that unawares
Caught fly snagged on the wall
Before departure
Merely seconds away