teri louise kelly was born in london but lives now in adelaide australia. she is the author of the memoir 'Sex, Knives & Bouillabaisse' (Mar 08) & the forthcoming 'Last Bed On Earth', she writes for the alternative & mainstream press in australia, is a short story competition winner in numerous competions, her first poetry volume is due for release in Feb 2010.
Thatz Feminsta Mista!
& freda kahlo didnt cum to my wedding,
too busy with the red people disembarking,
& i never went to my wedding,
tied up with the yellow people boarding,
& the big white whale & ahab did attend,
i heard, while over at the hollywood bowl
a phosphorous haze hung heavy as
the shaman danced & girls cried openly.
consentual conscientious objecting
jimmy the greek is running numbers of 150-1 against me,
those are more favourable odds than Moses, Brendan Behan, Daffy Duck or Christina Jorgensen got. the greek knows shit . . . he thinks i'm aktually competing.
i am not a participant in:
the human race,
the rat race,
the arms race,
the space race,
the egg & fucking spoon race,
the 3-legged, or 2-legged race,
the wacky race,
the kiss chasey race,
the great race; i have to be in the race to the grave. that checkbox is mandatory.
I am in a race with myself (odds in Vegas of 7000-1 against),
so far, i am only just ahead, by a nipple, maybe too,
i am too shit-scared to glance behind,
to see what i'm outrunning, what's in pursuit, closing the gap too fast,
its breath is bad enough, on my nape.
i still cling, valiantly, vainly, stupidly, to my choice to object to
co-dependent conscientiousness/& will, until the tape is broken,
they fired the gun too early anyhow. never send a man to do a woman's work Hank. i have the inside track, short bends, every inch counts baby. every second is vital, every first is forgotton . . . the race goes ON. Consentually.
absurd. i know.
In the event of a tie; i still die.
u know how it is right?
How it feels when youve
given all u can give
said all u can say
lied all u can lie
fessed all u can fess
written all u can write
begged all u can beg
thought all u can think
drunk all u can drink
eaten all the crap u can stomach
how that feels write down in the
pit of your gut, at the front of
your forehead, deep in the groin,
when everything screams ENOUGH!
U know how that feels right?
How it feels knowing u cant
face one more minute hour day week month year
of that kind of shit
how it feels when u wake up facing the
brutal reality that the total cost at lifes
checkout is beyond your resources and
that despite what they preach, life isnt
even an evens game . . . u know how that feels
all the things i left behind voluntarily