{"id":2714,"date":"2016-04-11T01:12:49","date_gmt":"2016-04-11T01:12:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2714"},"modified":"2016-04-12T01:28:30","modified_gmt":"2016-04-12T01:28:30","slug":"juliet-cook-april-2016","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/juliet-cook-april-2016\/","title":{"rendered":"Juliet Cook, April 2016"},"content":{"rendered":"

I Need To Bow My Head and Say Your Prayers Even If I Don’t Believe in You<\/strong><\/p>\n

Not liking this day makes me feel ungrateful
\nbut I don’t like Easter
\nor any other group holiday.
\nThey remind me of not fitting into the group.
\nThey make me think I should fit into a group
\neven if I do not want to.<\/p>\n

They remind me of male conversation feeling like nothing
\nbut yelling at the TV screen and taking sides
\nbased on sports teams.
\nThey remind me of female conversation feeling like nothing
\nbut yelling at the kids, telling the kids what to do,
\nwhat not to do, where to sit, don’t sit on Grandpa’s
\nlazy boy recliner! Only him and his wiener are allowed to sit there!<\/p>\n

I’m not allowed to wear that because Grandpa won’t like it.
\nI have way too much make up on and I need to take it off
\nand I need to take my clothes off right now
\nand change myself to fit into the group
\neven if I do not want to.
\nI need to learn to be grateful for what I do not want.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nI’m Talking To Myself<\/strong><\/p>\n

You want to stay with me
\nyou need to stray away from
\nthe standard routine.<\/p>\n

I don’t want standard beef
\nor a boring cow continually chewing
\nthe same old cud.<\/p>\n

Spit it out and try something new.<\/p>\n

One of us is firing a marshmallow.
\nOne of us is firing a cow tongue.<\/p>\n

One of us falls off the stick and burns.
\nOne of us starts on fire but gets swallowed anyway,
\nsinges the tongue and flails itself out in a different direction,<\/p>\n

unknown. I might explode or I might
\nfall down and burn on top of you
\nand then explode. Who the fuck knows?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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.<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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. 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