no Self to be saved
no big You to the rescue
this Me fantasy
-a.r.
Painting: The Lovers by Rene Magritte

Last night
My lover made a claim, expecting ALL of me
Of loyalty and of belief, I cannot let this be
I reject this, my body will not digest this
All of anything is a lie, unless we speak of when you die
ALL of me is not up for grabs, not even on the table
I alone will save this painted face, if I am able
There is at least one card you cannot see
So close that I have sewn it directly into me
Mine alone, this fleshy vest, you may have the rest
But this old Dame, I control her play, one day
I will reach, with this hand, into my beating heart
I will rip these seams apart, and I will throw her down
This Queen, and claim her crown
Until that day, She and I decide how much of me
To hold, to play, to bluff, discard, or hide
Or perhaps if you are lucky
To let it ride
-a.r.
Painting: Judith II The Queen of Hearts by Karen M.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
SHE.
Wild-eyed-wailing loud mad woman
CRAZY!
Spewing laced and racing thoughts
SHREW!
From her dark and sharpened corner
WHORE!
Dimming all your made-in-sparkle plans
HAG!
Unaware and unconcerned with offense
BITCH!
Chewing on your shit-shined-up clichés
COW!
Gathering together all the bits you leave behind
TROLL!
Creating for herself a shrill and singular dementia
HYSTERIC!
Ruling high and quick before her forced capitulation
QUEEN!
Reborn and formed again untouchable and touched
Madonna…
-a.r.
I want
To be unruly
Unkempt and unyielding
Like my daughter’s hair
Each morning
A mess of matted tendrils
From tossing and sweating
Fighting with fevered dreams
Irreconcilable scenes
Unable to be put together
Unwilling to be straightened out
Unlikely to be worked through
Without a good amount of ripping
Tearing and screaming
Cursing the forced task at hand
“Damn you”
“FUCK YOU!”
Leave me alone
Let me be matted and messy
All parts of me tangled
Wild and knotted while I am waking
This morning
I will not untangle myself
I will walk away and keep
The strands of me in shambles
Smelling of tortured sleep
Looking like Hell
And hurling defiance
At the world
-a.r.
I was inspired to rework and repost this as I am reading Preliminary Materials For a Theory of the Young-Girl.
May we all find a way to be unruly.