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A JULY TO MARCH NAKED
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A JULY TO MARCH NAKED
for everyone at the camp with no name
WILL THERE BE FOOTNOTES IN THE NEW REVOLUTIONARY FEMINIST READER?
I noted “define frotteurs” and flew over a forest fire to get past communism. I was very tired.
In the middle seat of the truck you worked the joystick between my legs. I left 43 books in her
car. The dream where I got caught robbing banks was the happiest I’ve ever had. I kept
thinking, at least now I can finish my book. Jasper said the chase scene went on too long, that
the whole thing was a chase scene. Well, isn’t that the point? Who was the vanguard of the
skinny dipping? Whose dog followed me into my tent? Even the chase was hard but not so
bad. The path opened up to field, banana slug, slow river. We stopped to listen for the weasels
of the night. There were 46 questions to fall in love. Quebecois Denis had his glasses on
scratched. We suckled wine from the box, we gave head every morning. Outside we knew only
fires and stock market hacking.
WHAT DOES NO FUTURE LOOK LIKE?
I have unwavering devotion for all of you. We slept in a unicorn motel in Yreka. The diners
were all themed ‘eternity.’ You dragged me across the sand and it filled my long fake nails. My
soap was stolen from under the tree. My neighbor was 30 minutes up river and had opened a
squat in a mall. There was so much wetness. You picked strands of yellow grass off the back
of my black dress. We listened to Pet Sounds, we did poppers. The coyotes were all around.
They sounded like anarchists pretending to be dogs. There were sparrows dropping and
leeches on small feet. We made them a boat from leaves. All of your tarot readings were bright
yellow cards. I hung a cheetah bikini from the branch of my hemlock tree. There will be no
killing of… myself. The gate was kept closed. Chloe marched directionless with the seeds.
*class is more complicated