Nicolle Elizabeth
3 poems
**
Drive
I was asleep on a picnic table when we got the news. Your father was alive. I didn't realize I had a father, you said. Apparently, he's a filmmaker, you said. We packed up the van and waved goodbye to the racoons and headed south. When we hit Gainsville, we decided to stop and watch the gators. Waste of time, they don't do anything but sit. In New Orleans, you said, I cannot do this, there are people starving. Get in the van, I said, lots of the people here.
**
Stay High
He said shush, I’m listening. I stop dropped and rolled everything into a gooey mess they were going to sell at the World’s Fair. Origin of light: a water jug full of snow. I offered him the cookies while he stared at the wall, chewing, listening for the birds. They were everywhere upstairs above us where this Dominatrix lived. They squawked all day, sounding like sex so she never felt alone. You live below a terrarium of intense, he said. No, I said, she’s rather tame, it’s the guy next door that gets me, his whole apartment smells like blueberries and I have no idea where the scent comes from. We got up to know. When he opened the door my friend said excuse me why does your house smell like blueberries he said it’s because of the paint, come here and stick your face in it. We walked through the wall into the next, down a ladder to the basement. I said oh good my circuit breaker is still working he said, is it really though? I said give me my cookie back and stick your finger here.
**
All Aboard
I shouted from the hull of the ship because I was the ship. The sky was cold and the stars were night. I dreamt you were alive. I looked up, my back in the floorboards, and said full steam ahead, people kissed.
**
return to sawbuck 3.3
**
Nicolle Elizabeth is a writer and bike mechanic who lives in Brooklyn. She is thrilled to be in Sawbuck. Thrilled, baby, thrilled.
**
Drive
I was asleep on a picnic table when we got the news. Your father was alive. I didn't realize I had a father, you said. Apparently, he's a filmmaker, you said. We packed up the van and waved goodbye to the racoons and headed south. When we hit Gainsville, we decided to stop and watch the gators. Waste of time, they don't do anything but sit. In New Orleans, you said, I cannot do this, there are people starving. Get in the van, I said, lots of the people here.
**
Stay High
He said shush, I’m listening. I stop dropped and rolled everything into a gooey mess they were going to sell at the World’s Fair. Origin of light: a water jug full of snow. I offered him the cookies while he stared at the wall, chewing, listening for the birds. They were everywhere upstairs above us where this Dominatrix lived. They squawked all day, sounding like sex so she never felt alone. You live below a terrarium of intense, he said. No, I said, she’s rather tame, it’s the guy next door that gets me, his whole apartment smells like blueberries and I have no idea where the scent comes from. We got up to know. When he opened the door my friend said excuse me why does your house smell like blueberries he said it’s because of the paint, come here and stick your face in it. We walked through the wall into the next, down a ladder to the basement. I said oh good my circuit breaker is still working he said, is it really though? I said give me my cookie back and stick your finger here.
**
All Aboard
I shouted from the hull of the ship because I was the ship. The sky was cold and the stars were night. I dreamt you were alive. I looked up, my back in the floorboards, and said full steam ahead, people kissed.
**
return to sawbuck 3.3
**
Nicolle Elizabeth is a writer and bike mechanic who lives in Brooklyn. She is thrilled to be in Sawbuck. Thrilled, baby, thrilled.
Labels: 3.3, nicolle elizabeth
