May 18, 2006
poetry thursday

i apologize again for my general absence, but i promise that soon you will be entertained with the adventures of miss kendra and jiggsblog in vegas.

i'm hoping that there will be the exchange of clothing with strangers, copious alcohol, several elvis, bellybuttons, hats, and hotdogs from circus circus.

in the mean time, because everyone loves it when i don't post for a while and post a craptastic poem that holds little interest, may i present:


(after dean young's sunflower, which i could not find on the interweb)

while vacuuming,
i orbit myself.
i swirl and spin, i circumvolve,
i revolve, evolve—
weigh the effects of my strawberry habit on the atmosphere,
formulate a plan to become a superhero,
absorb the energy captured by the sneaky points of pyramids or
just get out of here, either
graceland or some really juicy part of china
where the light is mathematical and preferably flattering. i hear
the faint and papery sound of aging. i fear the calories expended
do not equal or outweigh those ingested. i develop
a deep understanding of the social significance of rhinestones,
decide that serotiny is not the right method of reproduction
for me because fire sucks and fucking doesn’t.
my respect for full time maids grows large and bulbous—
if someone else were here I might ask him to caress it. memories
of vinyl-skinned dolls built in perfect proportion
by engineers, not god and my mother. her mustard yellow kitchen appliances,
vegan apple crisp (ninety-eight percent fat free),
riding feet up on the dashboard in the old blue car,
walking dogs at midnight… so full
of these ten-cent twelve-stick bundles of past i could
in one undetectable motion
stir them from my ear and watch them fall,
see these parts of myself consumed
by the wide mouth of the machine.


Blogger Laurie Ann said...

Yay! It's back!

Blogger said...

Is the plural of Elvis...Elvi?? Hee...

And we like your craptasticness. So what.

Blogger Uccellina said...

Nice turn at the end of that poem.

Blogger Tits McGee said...

my respect for full time maids grows large and bulbous—
if someone else were here I might ask him to caress it


Blogger Sysm said...

What happens in Vegas usually comes back infected and a little stinky.

Have fun, but bring enough cash to cover bail.

Blogger Spinning Girl said...

Please tell me you realize how phenomenal this is.

You never cease to amaze me.

Blogger Beeb said...

fabuloso as usual. ever think of putting a collection together into a book? i'm sure everyone here would buy.

ps: you should post the e story... i love that one!

Blogger AnonymousCoworker said...


Can you write one about a toaster next?


Blogger Colleen said...

I just said this to Miss VJ in an msn chat conversation about you:
[miss kendra] just seems like someone you can dress up like a pirate with and walk thru the grocery store to buy oranges to prevent scurvy

Blogger FRITZ said...

Dear Miss Kendra,
I must apologize for being absent from your blog of late. I have missed it dearly.

This poem made me realize why I like you so much. Because you're a girl with heart, and a girl with sense, and a girl with an ear for memory.

Perhaps, we'll form a band.

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