Old News

you are
now relegated
to poetry
songs i never sing
no one plays a dirge
again
and again
to recall a funeral

under construction

from some eleventh floor he waves
pulls his crane to roll and rise
hands that shift a
well known road beside me -
one i've walked on
kissed on
grew a blister
and spit on -
swings an orange flag to guide me.

from eleven floors
it could be you under that hat -
one hidden freckle
the shape of your smile
warm soft hands -
driving
the wrecking ball.

within reach

bridges stretch tight high enough a woman could leap. automobiles ride steady fast enough a woman careens. missles bolted silently clever enough that a woman ceased.

don't loiter at the temple (september 2007)

it's been a blast

but cuddle parties give me the creeps

and i'm spilling wine all over the rug.

when it dries it turns.

it stinks 

like a trashy punk dive.

but just so you know:

i screw like a big cat

sweat like a man

and walk like a lady.

i got volcanoes in my thighs

a banshee at my mouth

and jackals sniff the tomb of souls

i hide behind my belly 

on a river of fire.

whosoever reads hieroglyph

(an emperor or a dove)

may glimpse 

the fair lily of the Nile.

goodnight ladies

goodnight ladies

sadly

i must retire.

first communion

us girls
we got to wear white veils -
tiny frightened seven year old
brides of Christ.
afterwards i played wedding
in our driveway
in a red sequined dress.
for weeks i chased
boys into trees
who would not be grooms.

why the door stays shut (june 2007) NEW EDIT

it is simple.

it's freezing out here and we can go inside

but for the 40 locks I locked on the door

I originally locked.

I think I locked it in 1994 with

a standard Schlage

opened it last Christmas

and locked it again

(plus I pushed a chair in front of it)

then I flung the keys out a friend's car on I-77

hiding the evidence

that is:

an empty bowl

a book of 30 cent stamps

the red dress i wore

a composite chart for lovers

my before and after photos

(any evidence)

an old motorcycle seat

a grey fishnet t-shirt

a police report

(the crumpled evidence)

and there are my personal records:

five seven

brunette

blonde

redhead 

brunette

(stay a brunette)

one hundred twenty pounds

one hundred fifty

one hundred thirty five

one hundred fifty five

one hundred thirty

one hundred forty

100 reasons

40 sessions

20 antidepressants

10 cats

9 accounts

8 boyfriends

7 psychics

6 psychologists

5 surgeries

4 stimulants

3 benzos

2 urine samples

1 decade

nothing worth saving.

it's freezing out here 

please

(i've moved the chair away from the door)

get warmer

(close up you can really feel the heat)

but i definitely think the locks are fucked.

when i'm not looking

will you gently dismantle the hinges

and hide the screws in your mouth?

then i'll set fire to the mess.

my twenties: R. I. P.

one day
in twenty years
you'll wake up
and feel like
smoking
drinking
dancing
and
shagging

you'll try on dresses
shoes
dry your hair
make sure you smell good
and maybe find a twenty in a coat
you were getting rid of
and be thrilled.



next weekend
you may carry groceries to your car
trip on a rain-soaked plastic bag
that used to hold a newspaper
slip and lose
your footing.
you may hit your head on concrete,
thunk and
float up and notice
daughters
widows
cabbies
your neighbor's mother's sister
a priest who picks up litter
a surgeon who is late to a batmitzvah
your old college roommate

and they gather 'round your body
try to coax it back to life

in which case
i'll wish we'd had a conversation.

i-don't-know-why-guys-don't-like-it-but-they-don't

www.nataliedee.com

my big tip

here are
some tired cliches:

'empty bucket'
'dry well'
'abandoned car'

they're all i've got
for the karaoke tip jar
(next to buffalo wings
and ranch
and
some fifty year old salesmen's
cold fries)


the suit exclaimed:
'damn girl...you can sing!'
he was exuberant
like
he found a twenty
(i gave him a number
- my shrink's)


if you would -
when you empty your pockets
at night
(put your nickels
and pennies
and dimes on the dresser)
think of me

when i sing
i think of you.