{"id":1718,"date":"2012-07-18T22:57:05","date_gmt":"2012-07-18T22:57:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=1718"},"modified":"2012-07-19T02:38:22","modified_gmt":"2012-07-19T02:38:22","slug":"cassandra-dallett-712","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/cassandra-dallett-712\/","title":{"rendered":"Cassandra Dallett, 7\/12"},"content":{"rendered":"

Friday Night<\/strong><\/p>\n

I dreamt you left,<\/div>\n
me alone<\/div>\n
and happy<\/div>\n
breath, a room<\/div>\n
I could miss you in<\/div>\n
made me want to love again<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
In real life I hit you with my old frying pan<\/div>\n
threw a chair<\/div>\n
and pulled a knife<\/div>\n
threatened your sad<\/div>\n
and drunken life.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Wish I Was Black<\/strong><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
.<\/span>.<\/span><\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
smooth and smart as<\/div>\n
a crow.<\/div>\n
Crow\u2019s have funerals<\/div>\n
you know,<\/div>\n
a moment of silence<\/div>\n
in a winged black tree.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0.<\/span><\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Fists<\/strong><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
reminded me of love<\/div>\n
even before I knew about the sex act<\/div>\n
when I can\u2019t push you to violence<\/div>\n
\u00a0I am limp<\/div>\n
as the sheet<\/div>\n
clinging to the mattress<\/div>\n
I want to feel<\/div>\n
real<\/div>\n
as penetration<\/div>\n
and punches<\/div>\n
Things that take<\/div>\n
my breath away.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0Body Parts<\/strong><\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u00a0I want to perform an autopsy<\/div>\n
find that part of you<\/div>\n
that still loves me<\/div>\n
fuck with your head<\/div>\n
if I had a dick I\u2019d<\/div>\n
stick it in your ear<\/div>\n
loosen uptight thoughts<\/div>\n
light a match<\/div>\n
watch flame lick you<\/div>\n
like I used to<\/div>\n
turn you to ash<\/div>\n
walk through<\/div>\n
leave muddy tracks.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
\u201cHow do you like your coffee?\u201d<\/strong><\/div>\n
she asks.<\/div>\n
\u201cInsanely sweet and creamy\u201d<\/div>\n
I reply,<\/div>\n
hoping that someone<\/div>\n
will describe me this way<\/div>\n
soon.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
I like beginnings<\/strong><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
and endings<\/div>\n
the middle useless<\/div>\n
endless<\/div>\n
fluff to wade through<\/div>\n
marsh mellow sticky<\/div>\n
weighted<\/div>\n
first kisses<\/div>\n
first entries<\/div>\n
clean bed\u00a0sheets<\/div>\n
clocking out<\/div>\n
coming home<\/div>\n
I say<\/div>\n
just leave me<\/div>\n
the end.<\/div>\n
.<\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Cassandra Dallett\u00a0<\/strong>lives in Oakland, CA. When she is not working as a Nurse Aid she writes poetry.<\/em><\/div>\n
Cassandra has published in Hip Mama, The Chiron Review, Bleed Me A River, Ascent Aspirations, Criminal Class Review, Nibble, among others.\u00a0<\/em><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Friday Night I dreamt you left, me alone and happy breath, a room I could miss you in made me want to love again In real life I hit you with my old frying pan threw a chair and pulled a knife threatened your sad and drunken life. . . Wish I Was Black .. 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