The girl, whose hair was red, green and yellow

by Agnes Ezra Arabella

There were trees where I lived

and clean pavement

and pretty houses

that blocked the light from my bedroom window

The room had leftovers from childhood

Pink girly walls

stuffed animals that used to sing to me

They held me suspended

like the water and the beaches that I loved

The ocean I had bled in

lay down

and prayed to God

Like lighting pierces the sky

it pierced me

floating in space


salty water 


I wanted to smear my pussy all

over the world

The pussy that all the other girls hated

The weird one

that never shuts up

My brother teasing

“We did not land on

Plymouth rock;

Plymouth rock landed on us.”

- Malcolm X

I hate shopping malls

dislike boredom

and Chuck E Cheese

and the cultural hole

that suspends Mickey Mouse in outer space

I punch walls in my bedroom

and would like to break glass windows

Wrists on fire

bleeding processed foods

and the TV

My America

The shopping malls

The hairspray can and curling iron

wrapped in the glow of a well manicured lawn

and children playing with every toy


eating the sweetest popsicle

The newsman

burns through the TV

blood and legs flying

blood and guts bleeding

But I am in my room

My pussy talking to herself

late at night


under pink lacy covers

My pussy talks to the stars

flashing and sparkling

like I know outer space

My blood comes out in clumps

the imperfection

like American cheese

lays its burnt head

on my pretty pink pillow.