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Tell it to Peggy

We're in this
together, love,
like a head
in a bear trap

My head
your bear trap.

-Irving Layton

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Dear Readers...

Now I know there aren't too many of you out there but those of you who do read my blog, I'm much appreciative.

I've decided to blog over at wordpress because the formats are just much nicer. (I know, Don't hate)

Pleaseeeeeeeeeee continue to follow me and support me at www.amandadeo.wordpress.com. It will be much appreciated.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Vancouver 2010

My flag's being flown from the arena
ceiling and the pit's in my stomach now.

My brother drunk dials me. He's
screaming SID!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I haven't forgotten.

Not yet.

On the Fridge

Loyalty is fierce. I never let my stubble grow more than a millimeter. Took greyhound buses until my skin smelt like homeless.  Drank cheap beer. Got over the whole Men's Health Magazine thing.  Learned to almost love the United States.  Learned to almost get over leaving my true North.  Hung clothes over my dining room table chairs to dry.  Bought new books instead of spending hours looking for sixth additions (yuck!).  Bought tea pots for every one I know (taught them about the wonderful world of tea bags).  Stand up and place my right hand over my left heart.  Take the dog out late at night even though I'm scared I will end up on the back of a milk carton.

There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, darling. Nothing.

Switch Hitter

it's just me
in another dress

with different shoes

loins.

I'm seizing on these opportunities
before it's too late.

Emily Dickinson

She wanted to party.  Touch men in
all the wrong places. She had the moosic in her.
Introverts Gone Wild: Amherst Edition. Smoke
camel lights. Get out of the god damn house.
Drink stories about death with a whiskey
chaser. Forget that friends are sleeping. Have a
hangover on a Saturday morning. Fuck the
Sabbath.

But that's not
how she
wrote it.

Growing Up

you're going to the chapel
and you're going to get
married.

slivers of skin
from where I've
bitten my lip
thinking about
ten years worth
of teenage love.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

City that Never Sleeps

He parked
the car
under the
Kodak sign
in the Square.

Left the
hazards on,
dashed out
onto 42nd.
Saw a
tourist
changing
his t-shirt.

A clerk
called it
all in.
Civic duty
wins.

Last Call

Welcome to Verizon wireless.  The number you have dialed has calling restrictions that have prevented the completion of your call.

And I said, "Okay I've
had enough. My wires are
right. I've had enough."

Monday, May 3, 2010

A Mother's Love

My mum made me
read Chicken Soup for
the Teenage Soul when
I was 15.

She told me that
if I drank all the
broth it would
clear up my problem
of intensity.

I couldn't
keep it
down.

For Her (C.T.)

Every Tuesday at six
she sat on an old teacher's
desk with an invisible podium-
preached her gospel of Layton
and Souster and Dudek and
Contact Press.

Used hands like
Italians do or maybe
she was just
sculpting their work
in the air. Making it
look and taste like
candy floss.

I skipped the first
thee lectures, caught
the fourth, fell in
love and it's all this
every day click-clack,
the rooster's that I
no longer mind,
that I owe
to her.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Proportions

Spent today working
you out in ratios on 
the 28 Newark. 

Three parts
Winter: one part Summer.
Four parts
t-shirt: two parts 7 For All Mankind jeans.
Two parts
Chucks: one part no socks.

But I know you're all 
heart.  We trade
evenly, dear.  Our
love is proportionate. 

Euclid told me so.



Friday, April 30, 2010

Thinking of You

Spend separate nights
bending elbows at
separate bars. Looking
down at tables
waiting for messages
to define destinations.

And here we go
again-500 miles of
hoping that our
maps match.
That you will open
your mouth long
enough for my
hook.

I'm driving the 90
tomorrow.  Be sure
to wave when you
pass me on the
New York Thruway.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Erie Saloon

You talk about
the complications
of teleportation and
question man's
continuity over
Guinness and
french fries.

And I laugh
because all I can
think about is
Steve Urkel and
the episodes
where he
got hot.

Best If Used By...

You told me to go fuck myself so
I put the kettle on.  (This is a
phenomenon in America)
Slapped the microwave with
an open hand. Kicked the
recycling bin like Jackie Chan.
Handed the fridge its ass like
Chuck Norris.  Reached for the
milk that was now expired
and I really wish we'd
fought about your
mother last
Tuesday.

Live Fast, Die Young


Woke up next
to a picture
of your motorcycle
on my phone.
Behind the rear
wheel was a
thirty-case of
Bud.

And now I
understand all
your references to
living like
James Dean.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Choices

He said,  "Don't talk to him when I'm around" and
I didn't say anything back because I
knew better and him just got his
teeth fixed so I was doing him a
favour.

I hope my heart goes first. I hope
it sinks to the bottom of the
sea, scrapes the underbelly of a
whale, goes unclaimed.

I just hate to choose.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

"Iceland" to be published.

You will see my poem, Iceland, published in Issue 33 of Right Hand Pointing.

Check it out here:

Right Hand Pointing

Girls Names

Jennifer

On the top of a coaster she scraped the top of my nail beds with swollen finger tips. We were upright and I wanted to throw up, like in The Sandlot, but knew it would only slap us both back on the way down.  And she was so hot and we were fifteen and avoiding public humiliation was the top priority so I swallowed as hard as I could and felt like shit but she asked me for another ride and I said okay.

Anna

She said we’re gonna sink or swim and I was sittin’ on the back porch watching the dog rich with the currency of squirrels.  She was yelling at me from the kitchen window and I was gettin’ pretty pissed off because driving a mail truck all day isn’t all that glorious and neither is the castrato shriek from the window.

“What’s your goddamn problem?” she said.

“Just let me stand next to your fire…” he sighed.

Meghan

Her mouth tasted like Rhode Island sea salt.  I bounced a bunch of quarters off her ass in a motel room.  She was awesome at road trips.  She would let me fuck her in the back of an on-it’s-last-legs Chevy in the woods of any back country.  I left her alone in the city. I didn’t try any funny business there because it was all hers and she wouldn’t share it.  One time I water-cupped her right breast while waiting for the #4 on St. Catherine Street and she told me to fuck off.  I never got on the bus.

Upper Deck

You had the best collection and when
mum told me you were leaving for
Sudbury I felt like I was losing
a peice of me I'd never had.

You were six years older and
wearing Doc Martens to
Resurrection Catholic
(the ones with the official seal) and
I was still learning about
the Provinces and wearing those
really tacky button ups from
SmartSet.

But you were off to
play Junior hockey in the
Big Nickel and all that was left
were your Upper Deck's, my
favourite the Maurice Richard,
sitting in the closet.

I slept in there for
three nights.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Personal Days

I take what I can get-
lay on the couch and
watch Maury Povitch
and try to find out
who the father really
is. I take cyclic walks
around town looking
for trouble or just
someone to throw a
smile to.  I think about
the hook-ups I
never followed
through with and
bust my balls
over it. Laugh
because the
state pays for
all of it and
I can't feel an
inch of gratitude
for any of it.