uroscopy and the frog

written as a slam poem

Lately, I’ve been having naked dreams.
Dreams where my stuff
is all hanging out.
Struttin’ down a busy street
with these modest breast of mine a’ beating.
I’m holding them in,
praying against the lump on the right,
because they’re the only things protecting
my heart.
Sitting in a diner,
flesh goosed from the AC,
thumbing Heinz 57 off bare skin.
Unlike clothes, the stains scotch-guard off,
and I am free to make a mess of things.
Lying in an unknown bed
about the baby I have growing,
the sunrise flecked upon
my deflated belly.
She’s only a month old,
but I know she’s there.
She’s got the stubbornness of my best friend and,
like my breasts,
she ain’t going no where.
And in my dreams,
I’m frantic to cover up,
but folks still see
what I’m trying to hide.
That probably says a lot about my character,
which is why I see a doctor.
But I still have naked dreams.

Except for last night.
I could glide on sand,
walk on water,
and run away from you.
With my face pointed due West and a smile to guide me,
you become as distant
as mulberry trees and unripe corn leaves.
The bright lights wiped my memory and I forget:
Who are you again?
Because I’m too busy skimming sky scrapers
and dodging taxi cabs trying to keep my pockets full.
And I don’t need no body but my Father and His Word
with a capital DUBB.
I can read your future like Earl Grey.
It's The Lovers crossed with The Devil,
telling me:
you’ll be banging from twin, full, queen, king
trying on each size till you find
the head board
that can make the most noise
to KO the pleasure moans

of the girl-turning-woman you never took seriously.
She left you with a pillow case full of mandarin-scented ghosts
and used EPT sticks;
she doesn’t need that worn out past anymore.
She passed it on the left side
going 80 on the toll road
all the way to the fourth tallest building in the world
and the only city big enough to cultivate her dreams.
Till I woke from the kicking in my gut.
Roll over and pray for Chicago.

Author's Note

pregnancy... my greatest fear

Reviews

[Steve]

Hows about 'to 'still' the labor-pained screams of a girl you never took seriously?' Of your list I would choose supress.

To be honest (and I hate to be seen as critical in poetry because of course all poetry is from within and can never be critised) I think the poem works better with the second stanza omitted. The first is just so perfect.

'flesh goosed from the AC,
thumbing Heinz 57 off bare skin'

- thats fantastic! up there with the finest lines I have read on the cafe, and I really loved how you ended the verse, 'But I still have naked dreams' - such a tender vulnerability, thats why I thought perhaps a good way to end the poem. I kind of like the whole absence of the guy from the first verse to, like your saying 'who needs him, not me'.

The second verse does ground the poem though, I'm not slamming it in any way.

'She left you with a pillow case full of mandarin-scented ghosts' - that is so so good.

I had to look up what a slam poem was, I always read work aloud anyway, and this poem reads really well, it jumps from situation to situation. It's difficult to be original, but you really are, I havn't read anything quite like this on the cafe. The way the poem opens, 'with these modest breast(s?) of mine a' beating' is funny but also really proud and defiant, I get the feeling of a young mother who is not afraid to look people in the eye who might question her capability. You capture the whole range of emotions so well throughout and as I said, I loved the originality that fits so well with your natural writing skills.

Oh, and that Earl Grey line was classic, haha :)

A great write!