ten reasons why

ten reasons why
i can't write:

1.
i can't write because when i do i
take inefficient showers and get in
with all my clothes on and sit there
like an environmentalist on strike until
my jeans are soaked all the way through

2.
i can't write because
when i do i tell my cat, bonnie,
that her name is really beatrice and
that she is descended from a long
line of cat-queens and one day her
real family will come and claim her,
and that's really not very nice of me
to lie to her like that.

3.
i can't write because when i do i don't sleep
because there are all kinds of spitting
things waiting in the dark full of words
and words and words and words and teeth and
tongues that lick the backs of my knees
and neck while i lay in bed listening to
the beat beat beat words beat of my heart and

4.
i can't write because when i do
i try to convince strangers in the
library that they are my soul mate
without using any words, i just stare
them down through my book
and tell them that our children
would be beautiful.

5.
i can't write because your eyes
really are the same color as the sky
and that's just not fair so i write
about it and then i write about how
your hands are trees meant to wrap
through the hills and your fingers are
roots piercing my bones and sucking
me up through the xylem and down
through the phloem and producing
just enough ATP for your eyelashes
to touch the freckles on your cheekbones.

6.
i can't write because when i do
i find safety pins and nails and
broken beer bottles to be much more
fascinating than they probably should
be and i hide them in my pockets,
until i become a crow collecting
shiny things or a raccoon dipping
my treasures in the neighbor's pool
to clean them off before hiding
them God-knows-where because
i forget the next time i see another
shiny object.

7.
i can't write because when i do i become
suicidal over the fact that i didn't learn
to play the piano or violin or drums
as a child, didn't learn to do anything
musical really except for picking a few
broken chords on the guitar and EVERYBODY
can do that and i want to sing damnit
i was born to be a rockstar, i think.

8.
i can't write because when i do
i stop eating so you can feel the
ridges in my back when we lay
in bed, so my ribs and hips
bruise your chest and your big
hands snap my bird-bone wrists
and i sing, sing,
sing until you crush the song
right out of my lungs.

9.
i can't write because when
i do i put things in my mouth like
phones and keys and continents
and big words and mattresses until
i am full of all the possibilities.

10.
i can't write because when i do
the sun is too bright to go outside and
i feel everything.