H2

Potvaliant soliloquies are brown, with self-assured sober assertion. Quixotic rambles of the detoxic are pink, fluffy, and free. And Hortense asked you to leave. And Arthur texted, frantically, maniacally, threatening to cut off his hand and tourniquet the stump without masked relief. And it is with disbelief (or perhaps, more likely the opposite of what I mean), I pause. I may appear as an elucidation of your solution, but I need not interpret who I am as what I am not, nor ever have been: a cause.

Good Sense

And I have kissed

the incarnated eyes.

*

A dry and wan

frail young frame

that needs some tea

and a bit of fruit

to ameliorate this

erratic zeal.

*

And they: free from

anxious elsewheres

and insatiable needs.

And I heard how I plead,

and I see how I bleed.

And I can feel it coming.

*

And I am amusing

in bare legs or

stockinged feet.

Une modelle pour l'art brut:

the insane, profane

and impure.

*

And I can feel it coming;

bubbling, rising to the top.

*

Never search to find

what’s always been seen

and envy of this rite

turns pale complexions

nauseous greens.

And it is coming -

*

From this stitch in the side.

Spurting, spewing!

And I can feel it coming,

*

coming, coming on now

from this cramp

from that clamp

and the stamp.

*

And how do I wrestle

with this notion

of devious devotion?

The fact that was never true.

*

And I am amusing,

and it’s so confusing,

and I am amusing,

and it’s all consuming.

*

And I can feel it.

-Annie Corinne, 2012

Elinor

All I see is cruelty

It’s grinning like a skull,

Feel the grooves we’ve cut and scraped

As the sharpened becomes dull.

Can’t you see it starves my passion?

When I just want to live,

But now I’m fasting in that other fashion

Because I’m still impulsive to forgive.

How can you be so devilishly honest,

yet still so unaffected?

And how is it you’re not like me,

sentimental, discontented?

-Annie Corinne, 2012

Qveen of Hearts

I’ve got the worst road rage.

I never get to drive.

I’ve got suicidal thoughts and tendencies,

But I’ve never been so glad to be alive.

Aesthetics mean nothing to me

In my vanity and self-disdain

As I gain and gain

Because you’re all the same.

[I’m the one who gets it]

I’m the one who understands -

And even if you could

I know that you never ever would

Just like you claim that you

Don’t get drunk like your dad

No you’d never ever get drunk like your dad

And I understand that you’re sad

Could it be that you’re sadder than me?

Cause you never fake your smile in my company.

So if sleep is free -

And if you’re all so still in love with me -

Why haven’t I had it in days?

I haven’t had it for days

I haven’t had it for days

Haven’t had it for days.

I’ve got the worst road rage.

It’s full-bodied in my quartered age.

I love all of you

Even though colors are hard for me.

Eyes brown like earth,

Yours: black as death,

Or a solemn hazel sky,

But the blue eyes are always kind

And there the only ones I’ve come to find

Who really don’t seem to fucking mind

That I’ve got the worst road rage

I’ve got the worst road rage

I’ve got the worst road rage

Rage, rage, rage.

- Song by JVNK, lyrics by Annie Corinne