Poems by Alicia Porter Smith

"I saw the best generations destroyed in my mind"

jagged nails
talk of psychosis
scavenger stoned
feeble brain shot
velvet uniformed suicide
UK disabled supremacy

carbon angels sexed
down pearls strung out
another movie
another war

live laugh promise
skin cough stream flowers
praise quickly smoked
ash pennies

bible sorrow vanity
bruises on a gartered thigh
houses of sugar

    "When we're dead or insane, they'll make us icons"


Light the candles.
kill the lights,
the voices
burnt down
like the incense sticks
graying, (praying),
as the static stereo plays
Labyrinth music.
We blindfolded her,
she lay on the pea-green shag carpet.
Ice cubes melt on our tongues
we pass one back and forth in our mouths,
over her body.
She removed the babydoll dress
of parents and religion and propriety.
Dark hair touched, with the first non-fuck,
she was unbalanced.
We removed the blindfold,
she opened herself to the Sirens.
Candles, burned down.
She poured the wax into her hand,
made her fingerprints in it
and in my carnal mind......

The perm chemicals
reek through the salon
making me a little dizzy
(just for a second I thought I could look good in anything).
The book on my lap
crinkles the plastic bib
as I try to decide,
purple or red.
The overly made-up girl
drones on like the dryers.
I don't know anyone she knows.
I don't even see how she sees.
She may as well be dead to me,
except now, she's doing my hair.
Deep Wine Burgundy or Copper Flame Sunset?.....

Wine, grape-flavored, sparkling cider.
wine. The name is blurry, I don't care.
"Can we drink this?" I asked him,
"Will your mom notice?"
His parents were out of town.
We spelunked through that pristine furniture,
trying not to spill anything.
I never liked the stuff that burns.
Irish Cream, they put in coffee.
Scotch, a better brand of tape.
Ash-gray carpet under white feet,
so magnetic, I can't resist falling.
I never understood the appeal of drinking
until my entire body was made of liquid.
(and me) the fish queen
felt music seeping into every pore.
All of my senses, one universal sensation.
I never want the cloudiness in my brain to clear.
The unity pounding through my little threshing-floor body.
the thrill of forgetting who you are......

I sat outside the Union Building
smoking half a clove
as the stars emerged from their hiding places.
self-appointed exile.
An old gentlemanly stranger sat next to me on the bench,
breaking my reverie.
He said his name was Sherman
like my brother works at Sherman-Williams.
We talked a while about his cancerous wife, executive career, and grandkids,
my lost friends, the death of virginity, and the new puppy.
He could've been my father, or a killer.....

I got used to your rhythm
your movements, your touch.
We were music
and everyone else seemed out of tune, off beat
going against
the grain of my soul.
I heard us, secretly playing
but it was only a
dying crescendo.

Obsession is a thumb-sucking stubborn brat of a ten-year-old wailing in the supermarket for mommy to buy a sucker...
(that picture of him with the vertical stripes and black lips has been following five steps behind me all day)
You watch my velvet dress slip to the floor
touch my cold pale bluish lips and free me of the rest
listen to me murmur unintelligible songs that remind me of you in my sleep
taste of perfume sweet licking on lollipop-skin, sticky sweet
and the smell of you-me-smoke-sweat-cologne mixed on the sheets...
She drinks my heartbeat with fervor
i'm drained
i push you with intensity
throwing your frail body against the tear-stained walls
She whispers, "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"
her lips pressed to my palm...
"Take me to London, Gabrielle," she said, "I want to meet people."
(she said)
my name is not gabrielle, it is nothing
i want to be alone...
my imaginary sunglasses mask a shallow ice-cube stare
ebony-painted eyes
porcelain doll
white as a coffin...
you will dance at my funeral, you will skip in the procession.
(subliminal blush)...
"Obsession is childish" she said.
I know
but I like to feel the sand in my hair...
Betray me my little blind mouse
she said silently
her eyelashes kissed me
then she dissolved
and drowned in my hand
i am quite tired...
I think she will collapse on the ceiling
in a scarlet pool of passion...
I was lost in the supermarket once
they cut off my thumb and cut out my tongue
he came to save me
since he left, she has carried me
played me like a puppet...
I am not a bitch because a bitch is a dog and if I were a dog
I would have ripped your throat open by now
and I left my handcuffs at home...
cut the strings...
Hold my hand and put on her cotton-candy black dress and the veil surrounding her doll-like features and lay his violent hair on a dirty rock (smash) and come to sleep...

I tarnished my halo by saying,
you and I have turned into helpless vampires.
Violently, you touch every shrine with your knife,
accidentally creating a soul.
With depressing words I hold you,
soon perhaps Barbies, and at the mercy of my abandoned cigarette.
Your child-fucking mind tries harder to shatter me.
I release your hand, let your game stop.
We scream at each other.
Why can't anyone escape liars?
she finally grasped the depth of our connection.
the interchangeable cocky bitch always shivers at the truth,
her insecure smirk, transparent.
Never and again will you stab the silver angels,
caused and followed by a new delirium.
The most over-drawn virgin's blood
tightly caught in the sheets
is forever reminding both of us,
every mourning, eternally sick to me.
If you will let me unsheathe you,
I will slam my shackles to the floor.
I believed every word and laughed, chanting,
you bastard, you do not deserve anything,
with none over me.
I was shaking her, and from my ashes,
you choose her companionship.
she means to never cry for you.
she cannot be me.
I'm to be laid on our altar, statue-still, sacrificed,
Even you can look at my son or daughter and me
as a mirror to stop crying in.
Because you killed my ability to refuse,
you gave me the straight jacket,
and I sigh as you make another child blind.


Lost in the night sky
lying on your trench coat
watching those stars but with
different things in mind
like fucking,
but we have promises to keep,
and I have to be home tomorrow.
I would take you home
if you knew where that was.

Light dissolving, exploding, glittering
in the depths of eyes
that kill everything else.
The burning desire to taste you again,
choking on that desire and unfinished business.
A memory like a movie
I've watched way too many times.

The chaos lord.
I thought I'd get dizzy
singing, yelling much too loud
for you to die inside me,
helpless in that chaos.
There is a piece of you that I can't touch,
and now I can't be near you
without getting sick to my stomach.
I wish it was as easy for me
to erase what you have been
by purging myself of you like yesterday's lunch.


like automatic weaponry

in 1984.
black on white,

playing children
(in the mind)

shot down,
drowning in

scarlet colors.
no savior.

jesus crucified,
arms on the cross.

at a time becoming
so close to being

one prophecy can cause
such a war.


rain on concrete
black trenchcoats

gray sky
blood flowing against

implanted mycotoxin sacs
silent men

with silenced guns,
quick hands

an itching trigger finger
dead flowers dried, strewn

in the gray rain
the night disguise

fake beauty
dead orgasm.

touch the air
there is no heaven.


Come over here, switch off the noise in your mind.
Listen to the electricity of fire.

It should be basic, primal. We're used to it.
When nothing is shocking, make it burn brighter.

Come over here, switch off the noise in your mind.

Flare in the static of nothing, flood through it.
Soon it appears that we've always been alive.

Listen to the electricity of fire

The spray of sparks slips through my hand, I do it
for you, for everything I once knew, and say

Come over here, switch off the noise in your mind

Give me what you cherish, since we both knew it
would break bleed and burn. But just once, for tonight

Listen to the electricity of fire
Come over here, switch off the noise in your mind.

It's puddle day at the zoo
(100% off for those who buy a post card
and still want to see animals who are smart enough
to get out of the rain.)
The monkey climbs the mesh fence
in the back, the one that blocks out the tree.
There must be some wire cutters hidden in there.
He keeps looking back at us,
making like he's eating leaves
to avoid suspicion.
"Look how cute I am, I'm eating leaves."
But he's waiting until we leave
to get the clippers out.

Only one eye open
lounging like a beatnik,
real detached.
He offers us a log,
the universal symbol of friendship.
He'd be cool with a cigarette and a leather jacket;
and if his log was a bong,
we'd share it with him.

Two pygmy hippos lie
like Romeo and Juliet.

Rock Cavy, big gerbil-rabbit,
looking out the window thinking profound thoughts.
He's the wise man at the top of the mountain;
and if you asked him the secret to immortality he'd say,
"Don't die."

The sign says wolves are very shy of humans,
but the black one ventures up to the fence.
Each on our side of the tracks.
The white one wakes and joins him
both of them just watching us watching them.
Mirror images.

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