Louisiana Skylights Don’t Exist

Part I

My body humming with the transmission
The vibration of switching gears echoes through my chest
The warmth of the hood engulfing my thighs
The cool glass, soothing my back to an arch

I feel robotic

Yet
I am as real as the words that are spoken

And everyone knows
Everyone accepts the five of us are cliché
We feel the fingerprints of the hundreds
Of other lost teenagers on this dust topped hill
Our originality retired for the evening

But tonight we are alive

We radiate in lavish colors
Out lined in red and orange

Filled in with blue
Mixed with purples and lavenders

Our shell is reflecting our colors in igniting gold

Tonight
We
Are
beautiful




Part II

Spencer points out the stars
great big orbs of shinning sliver light

I wonder why he feels the need to point them out
His finger tips painting my sight to the sky

Does he think me blind?
Does he suspect I do not appreciate little things

Such as the beauty of stars?

Or does he feel he urge to share his mind
Let me explore the depths Of his heart
Let me into his life

I take the invitation
And I take his hand

Spencer points out
My hand is on top of his



Part III


The night breeze ripples my dress

The night breeze ripples Mae’s mind
Her back leaned against the same glass as mine
But her side has frosted

Spencer clenches to my hand and traces pictures
On my palm
I try to guess what figures Spencer creates

It’s like guessing the weather

I guess it’s a four leaf clover
He says it’s an old man playing the oboe on the sinking Titanic

I guess it’s a heart
He says it’s Frodo Baggins dancing with a maiden

Mae says she is cold
She says her mind feels frozen over
She say’s she shivering
Yet her body remains silently still

She is the artic in Louisiana humidity
Even the hood of the over heated car
Can not penetrate through her
Protective
Navy
Burlap
3 inch
coat

Spencer looks up from his tan skinned masterpieces
And suggests she take off her coat
He says
The heat of the car will melt away
The ice

He says this, while drawing Kermit the frog
Galloping over the moon
On top of a 3 legged unicorn


Mae says she is too modest
As she pulls her thin legs to her petite waist
Allowing the flowing fabric of the coat to swallow her knees
Allowing her body to become one

I ask her what she wears under her armor
When I really meant to say coat

She doesn’t notice my slight stutter
And royal fuck up of words

Instead she replies
That under the coat, she is completely naked
Except for
The long green sweater that clung to her wrists
Or the long torn blue jeans that were a tad bit too short
Cutting off at her ankles, revealing
Long orange knee socks

Why then does she feel so naked?
Why is she so enclosed inside
Inches and inches of fabric

She sits up off the hood and goes inside the car
To hide the way her cheeks lit up
When someone mentioned revealing
What was inside
That 3 inch, burlap, navy, coat







Part IIII

Ayden likes perfection

But he hates being perfect

He leans down from his temporary residence
Laying across the top of my car

He reaches down to were Spencer and I rest
Aloft the arched hood

He intertwines strands of hair in his fingers
Twisting shapes and twirling strands into
Beautiful designs

He twists and untwists to make
Perfect braids

I lay stiff for him
So he can work till perfection is achieved

Ayden lives for perfection

But his life is not perfect

There are a few flaws I can name

Hishairismessyheistooskinnyhecantafordcollegehedroppedoutofhighschoolhesmellsoffastfoodhesmokesalittlemorethanheneedstohisdaddrinkshismomdiedheisallergictopeanutbutterhehasnotkeptapetaliveformorethanthreeweekshisleftshoehasaholeontheleftsideheispigeontoedheiscompletlycolorblind

I think Ayden is angry at God
Ayden thinks that if he was God
He’d make everything perfect

Ayden finished my perfect braid
And leaves behind
Perfect rain drop shaped
Tears

Ayden is perfect
Despite all his imperfections







Part V

Anna dances in the sunset
The rays of sun look mediocre next to her blinding smile
Her elegant arms painting lines in the sky

She twirls to the changing wind
She pirouettes across the ledge
Her slender body a silhouette against the sun

Anna is livid in indescribable beauty

For the sunset reflects the colors
Of electric static she releases
Across her smiling face

She puts on a show for us
Dancing to Aerosmith’s “Dream On”
That was placed on repeat
As if the song thought up different meanings
For every 45 times we hear it

We sing and clap along to the unsinkable tune
As she bleeds color into the sky

The world as her canvas
And she engraved her spirit
As footprints dotting the dirt

Her head thrust back, taking deep log breathes

Letting the compressed air out with a tuneful scream
That covers Stephen Tyler’s melodic voice
And echoes through the world
Or at least the part’s we know


Anna feels she has to live for the ones who can’t

Anna had an abortion last year



Part IV

Spencer put his cold finger to my lips
Silencing my verbal thoughts

He smiles nervously as he points
To bleeping digital lights

Confined in the car stereo, currently blasting the Beatles

It is 1:00 AM

The time when angst driven teens thrash in their beds

Grumpy elders with failing marriages get up for work

College students finish studying for their 15 page exam

And five teenagers sit in thought
At the edge of a cliff
All agreeing to do the first thing that comes to their mind
At exactly 1:00 AM

In a flash of movement, I witness
The beautiful, painful, honest, imperfect side
Of what it is to live

Mae slips shyly from the confinements of the car
Shedding her skin of burlap
And stitches of dull navy

She savagely throws the coat to the ground
Exposing her modestly covered body
Angles of perfect hips sloping
To long legs, gracefully poised

Her waist curving up to her full chest
Her long neck supporting her confident rosy cheeks

She removed the protective arms from around her waist
And caressed her hair
And she felt the warmth of everyone’s eyes on her
She felt the love of being noticed

She felt the comfort of letting other’s see what’s behind those walls

Ayden got up from sitting on top of the car
Ripped open the door, and grabbed the Aerosmith CD

Ayden had always said this CD was Perfect
Every lyric, note, guitar solos
everything

he took $13 dollars worth of genius and threw it on the ground
scratching the exterior in every angle
cutting jagged lines into the curved outline
stomping on the disk till his breaths came in short gasps

then he picked it up calmly, placed it back into the CD player
reclaimed his spot on top of the car
nodding his head to the ragged sounds
of skipping beats and scratched choruses

he closed his eyes to the sound of imperfection
and he smiled a crooked smile

Anna stopped dancing in the sun
And stood still facing the now rising moon
Tears rolled down her cheek
Sliding down her chin
And landing softly on top of her dancing foot prints
She slowly sank to her knees and covered her face
In her hands, weeping
Letting that fake piece of her heart
Die


And Spencer
Spencer turned to me
Placing his hands on my waist and pulling me towards his subtle body
And he failed to point out how his fingers trembled slightly
Or how his hands seemed to match my waist perfectly
He just pulled my lips towards his
And kissed them softly
Failing to mention how wonderful it felt
Despite our clumsy lock of lips
And inexperience
Of just when to release our hold
Or when to breathe

And I
Played the game of
“Guess what Spencer is painting on my lips”
as his tender lips parted mine I whispered in more of statement
then an unsure question

I guessed love
And Spencer just nodded
Smiling, the dimples folding over the freckles that line his cheeks

But as fast as it happened
It was 1:02 AM

Mae had slipped back into her coat
Ayden’s Aerosmith was replaced with the perfectly written “The Smiths” CD
Anna was ribbon dancing with an imaginary thread to “Asleep”
Spencer was sitting on the car hood pointing out the flowers that lined the road
And I was still guessing at what life was



But one thing I do know about life is
this is the closest I’ve ever been
to living a life
pure and honest

all in one
minute

P.S. Louisiana Skylights Don’t exist

since it is such a long poem and I am such a busy person I won't do an actual review (sorry, and I just wrote an eight part poem too

but it's great to see such stamina in a writer
it's also great to see something....dammit...that word's on the tip of my tongue....CREATIVE!
yeah, it was actually extremely good

the atmosphere is contagious, it makes me want to go on a road trip

but let me say this
there is much, much more to poetry than stories
even though this was amazing, I hope not all of your poetry is like this
in addition, you have incredibly potential and you're on the right track

so much so, that all you need for improvement is to read a bigger variety and practice

but this was great, I just don't have much time between "homework breaks"