I Need To Bow My Head and Say Your Prayers Even If I Don’t Believe in You
Not liking this day makes me feel ungrateful
but I don’t like Easter
or any other group holiday.
They remind me of not fitting into the group.
They make me think I should fit into a group
even if I do not want to.
They remind me of male conversation feeling like nothing
but yelling at the TV screen and taking sides
based on sports teams.
They remind me of female conversation feeling like nothing
but yelling at the kids, telling the kids what to do,
what not to do, where to sit, don’t sit on Grandpa’s
lazy boy recliner! Only him and his wiener are allowed to sit there!
I’m not allowed to wear that because Grandpa won’t like it.
I have way too much make up on and I need to take it off
and I need to take my clothes off right now
and change myself to fit into the group
even if I do not want to.
I need to learn to be grateful for what I do not want.
I’m Talking To Myself
You want to stay with me
you need to stray away from
the standard routine.
I don’t want standard beef
or a boring cow continually chewing
the same old cud.
Spit it out and try something new.
One of us is firing a marshmallow.
One of us is firing a cow tongue.
One of us falls off the stick and burns.
One of us starts on fire but gets swallowed anyway,
singes the tongue and flails itself out in a different direction,
unknown. I might explode or I might
fall down and burn on top of you
and then explode. Who the fuck knows?
Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.
