Tag Archives: Nature

But I’m Not Perfect Yet

Old poem, old photo, newly paired, never shared:

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But I’m Not Perfect Yet

Why the shampoos
with promising poems
“You’ve really got it now”
“Not your mommas hair-do”
“Beautiful, luscious, supremely clean”
Why all the claims and things
in the ads we see
I know some who
can take it
or leave it—
and why I ever accept it,
I don’t know
I was beaten with it
as a girl
see: media and magazines
images of youthful
concealed women
(concealing whatever doesn’t fit
with the current trend)
see: glowing women or matte
depending on the season
submissive yet dominant
bronzed and flirtatious
You hear confidence is
everything but I don’t believe
that to be true
(I pride humility)
I cannot blame myself
here, and neither should you
Some days I am bland
Some days I am sexy
Some days I’m just decent
and free
but all these days
I am taken with
thoughts of
What I Should Be
My eyes aren’t large enough
My hair won’t lay strait
My clothes just don’t look
that good on my back
Not nearly as good
as they looked strung
up on the rack
I contort myself
with belts and jeans
I pinch, prod and shave
I bleach
chop
polish
and press
I bend over backwards
trying to achieve
a standard that someone
somehow made me believe
I didn’t feel
good-looking
today, it’s true.
I wanted to grab every
woman and ask
“Do you feel this way too??”
I wanted to know
that deep down we
are all just the same
and that on the outside
none of us are ever
what they claim
on the backs of the
bottles of $16 gunk
those are just words and wishes
amounting to junk
intended to make a buck

Centaur

Nature brings
me all the way
back to
myself and
when I am
inside of it
I shed a thick
skin and quickly
I let go piece by
piece the armor I’ve
been endorsing
I let go of the
big box store
one finger
at a time
I find a
better
greener
place
to spend
my time
I rip
and I tear
the clothes
from my skin
I urinate
into the soil
I am animal today
I sleep with the
sky and the moon
whisper sweet-nothings
to blades of grass
I flirt with the irises
run along with the
warm spring wind
I dance to the song
of my own
heart
soul
spirit
I melt into the trees
touch the sky
the stars
there isn’t a care
in the world
inside of myself
inside of nature
inside of this
canyon

moon