Hokey Pokey (What this blog's all about)

A writing challenge I've given myself to write every day for six months. After some posts, I'll put in a comment with a brief explanation of the inspiration for the piece. Some posts will be practice for bigger projects: character sketches or settings. I don't really know what all will happen which is why I'm doing it.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Day 11

She’s seated at a laptop
She could be a teacher
But she’s not
Badge hanging from lanyard,
Adulty and boring
Boring clothes
Unreadable looks
Unreadable questions
Unaskable answers
I didn’t know anything
Except through her questions
“Has anyone ever touched you in places where your bathing
suit covers?”
“What about your sister?”
She’s another story.

Short stories, long stories.
She tells them all.
In her skinny pen
Skinny legs
Skinny face

My face is
u n
r e

or something…

ROUND- dead

Not merry-go-round.
Not merry. Just round.

My sister’s long and lean.
Her roundhouse is long and lean
Her legs are long and lean

She can fight.
Did she?
Fight, I mean?
Its one of the many questions I want to ask but can’t.
I wonder if that lady asked.
The lady with the clacking shoes
Klickity-clack, klickety clack
Sharply down an empty school hallway
everyone in class
In a conference room in the counseling office
No idea why I’m there
I wonder why I can’t remember
Anything about her
That lady
Klickity-clack, klickety clack
Klickity-clack, klickety clack Klickity-clack, klickety
What did she look like?
What did she say?
I wonder if my sister remembers
Her questions
Her answers
I had nothing to say
But my sister,
my sister had lots to say
About my father
Dirty laundry loads
Gross, man-loads
Loaded-questions, loads

I wonder if she misses him now
I do
Miss, miss, miss
All the meanings
Miss when the aim is off
A Miss is unmarried
Like an ugly duckling
like me
Will always be
A missing, longing feeling

For a father I’m not allowed to miss

Miss miss miss

Mmm smiss miss
Hot chocolate warms my belly
Keeps me company
Smiss miss,
The miss

I know where the jail is
Shackles and court rooms

No te precupas!
He tells me over and over with his eyes

BRIGHT orange
Mmmm… peel under fingernails
The scent filling the air
My fingernails busy

Safer than digging into my palms
Its enough to have the peel for now

I promise myself, “Later.”
Later comes.
I make it come
I will myself into the future
In a bathroom during class
Out of food
With a paperclip in hand
Digging in my skin
Releasing the orange peel
The missing leaking out

Eyes scan a crowded hallway
Stop on certain key figures
Slim figures
Athletic figures
Stylishly clad figures
Miss other figures
I am missing.
Always missing.
In the middle
Lost in a crowd
In the middle
Not youngest or oldest
Not the abused one (that poor girl,)
Not the boy
The missing one
I shove granola in my mouth and continue on
Shove hands in pockets and glare on
Behind thick, black eyeliner
I glare through the middle

At the health teacher who won’t look
At me
When you talk about childhood obesity
Healthy eating
I eat healthy
Crunch, crunch through healthy
Cut, cut through my thigh
Stinging, glorious healthy thigh
MMmmm chicken thigh
Soothes my thigh
Misses my diet
Misses Smiss Miss

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