"I need to go to the bathroom"
"Please do"
Cherise's face is pure blood, there is blood above her eyebrows, blood under her eye lashes, there is blood caked in the crevasses of her smile, in her lines around the mouth that are much deeper than they should be at her age.
The air is so dry and so full of pain, it makes her face bleed.
Her gums started bleeding the other day. A tooth fell from her face.
Eventually, Cherise will have all of her teeth extracted from her body. Today, she is full of teeth except a back molar that she pulled out with her hands.
Lots of people will lose their teeth.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
All of our sisters are terrorists.
My sister was the group of girls that were fighting against the rapist.
They shot the rapist in the chest 27 times at close range. No one else was injured.
Except the other boys, the other boys who told this boy that it was OK to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. These other boys were cornered, one shot in the cheek, his cheek so large that the bullet lodged in the fat, the surgeon later told him that he's lucky he's such a big kid, the bullet should have gone straight through his face, horizontally, cheek to cheek, blown right through.
Luck, he is so lucky. All those boys are so lucky.
They are lucky my sister and her friends didn't shoot them to death, too.
Another boy got a bullet in his dick, one of my sister's friends pointed the gun right at his dick and fired. It hit his leg and knicked a ball.
A list of many other girls were made, girls that they told to stay home that day, including the victim of the attack.
No one else was injured.
No one else was injured.
These girls in the news, in the newspaper. Their long hair and their cold stares, looking right into the camera, we had to move, to move to this place, where my sister the gang leader becomes my sister the terrorist becomes my sister the caretaker in this desolation.
My sister was the group of girls that were fighting against the rapist.
They shot the rapist in the chest 27 times at close range. No one else was injured.
Except the other boys, the other boys who told this boy that it was OK to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. These other boys were cornered, one shot in the cheek, his cheek so large that the bullet lodged in the fat, the surgeon later told him that he's lucky he's such a big kid, the bullet should have gone straight through his face, horizontally, cheek to cheek, blown right through.
Luck, he is so lucky. All those boys are so lucky.
They are lucky my sister and her friends didn't shoot them to death, too.
Another boy got a bullet in his dick, one of my sister's friends pointed the gun right at his dick and fired. It hit his leg and knicked a ball.
A list of many other girls were made, girls that they told to stay home that day, including the victim of the attack.
No one else was injured.
No one else was injured.
These girls in the news, in the newspaper. Their long hair and their cold stares, looking right into the camera, we had to move, to move to this place, where my sister the gang leader becomes my sister the terrorist becomes my sister the caretaker in this desolation.
There are so many people bleeding.
The radioactive air makes Cherise bleed from the nose.
When I show up to walk her to the unrecognizable church for a city council meeting, her face is bloody. She cannot stop the bleeding. No one can help her.
No one can help any of us.
The air dries my skin out so much that it bleeds at the slightest miscommunication.
The radioactive air makes Cherise bleed from the nose.
When I show up to walk her to the unrecognizable church for a city council meeting, her face is bloody. She cannot stop the bleeding. No one can help her.
No one can help any of us.
The air dries my skin out so much that it bleeds at the slightest miscommunication.
When we are released from the shelter, it takes our eyes days to adjust to the light. We have been told that we can stay in our town but we have to rebuild with what is available, whatever is available.
Everything is melted. The first blast melted everything. The second blast sent everything shimmering and threw everything in every direction. The first blast was the hurricane. The second blast was the tornado. There was a light blue mist in the air that we knew was killing us, a radioactive wind that was entering our bodies if we stayed. We knew that everything would be radioactive. I knew that I was going to be radioactive if I stayed. We needed to stay, even if our mothers were gone in a country we could not pronounce, in a city that we were not allowed to know about. All the mothers in the whole land were gone. Those of us that were old enough stood in for the mothers. Every woman over 18 had to sign up for the draft, it was the law. Men had to stay behind and protect the home, protect the domestic land, to make sure America kept moving forward in spite of the war, in spite of the bombs.
But Mrs. President don't you understand what you are doing sending women off to war,
Mrs. President don't you understand what you are doing
Mrs. President please we do not mean to disrespect you but
We mean no disrespect
Mrs. President, are you sure you want every woman to go to war
Mrs. President with all due respect what are you doing
Everything is melted. The first blast melted everything. The second blast sent everything shimmering and threw everything in every direction. The first blast was the hurricane. The second blast was the tornado. There was a light blue mist in the air that we knew was killing us, a radioactive wind that was entering our bodies if we stayed. We knew that everything would be radioactive. I knew that I was going to be radioactive if I stayed. We needed to stay, even if our mothers were gone in a country we could not pronounce, in a city that we were not allowed to know about. All the mothers in the whole land were gone. Those of us that were old enough stood in for the mothers. Every woman over 18 had to sign up for the draft, it was the law. Men had to stay behind and protect the home, protect the domestic land, to make sure America kept moving forward in spite of the war, in spite of the bombs.
But Mrs. President don't you understand what you are doing sending women off to war,
Mrs. President don't you understand what you are doing
Mrs. President please we do not mean to disrespect you but
We mean no disrespect
Mrs. President, are you sure you want every woman to go to war
Mrs. President with all due respect what are you doing
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
FLOWER CITY
Quinn's father said the basketball hoop was filled with wisteria. In the net were purple blossoms, vines and vines, looked like they were coming through the backboard, as if breaking through the fiberglass, the net, when looked at right, was pulsing with vines he said, like the time in Mexico where they got lost and had to pay and old couple to use their outhouse and when he looked up the walls were moving because of all the lizards. He thought it as an optical illusion.
The wisteria started at the mailbox but Quinn's father didn't think anything of it. "I started mowing the lawn around it before the vegetation took over."
"We thought the green was coming back, the bomb hadn't killed Mother Nature, we were told before the war started that nature, as we knew it, would not be the same again, and, frankly, they did not know what to expect this time around. Last time, my lawn didn't grow up back for a year."
The wisteria started at the mailbox but Quinn's father didn't think anything of it. "I started mowing the lawn around it before the vegetation took over."
"We thought the green was coming back, the bomb hadn't killed Mother Nature, we were told before the war started that nature, as we knew it, would not be the same again, and, frankly, they did not know what to expect this time around. Last time, my lawn didn't grow up back for a year."
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