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site title: Muse Palace Dark and dangerous content wrapped in pink taffeta and topped with a tiara: Poetry by Susan Cossette

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muse palace dark and dangerous content wrapped in pink taffeta and topped with a tiara poetry by susan cossette about the muse get the book peggy sue messed up reviews you tube muse palace dark and dangerous content wrapped in pink taffeta and topped with a tiara poetry by susan cossette feeds posts comments i was diane diprima in another life october 28 2020 by musepalace i was one of the boys i dropped acid with timothy leary ginsberg hit me up for weed kerouac for wine and typing paper i put stars in my hair spoke golden truths from other planets buddhist monks chanted my poems like sacred wisdom i wanted every electric experience the eternal wisdom of peyote and shiva my words to curl churn and blaze goddess of destruction purveyor of mercy in actuality i am a middle aged refugee from new york living semi anonymously in the midwest i have a mortgage a day job and landscapers two cats two dogs and boxes full of old memories packed high in the garage after the divorce oh diane all i got is muskrat love on the legion hall jukebox christmas music in october paralysis by analysis my brain a thick concrete brick a dank mud filled swamp the letters and syllables buried with old tires rusty license plates and plastic six pack rings and visions of what i could have been had i been born thirty years earlier nobody s done it this way before but fuck it that s what i m doing i m going to risk it it s not too late diane right posted in uncategorized leave a comment genesis october 18 2020 by musepalace in the beginning was the girl born of no man s bone or flesh the girl was faultless blonde or red her hair can be straight curly her hips have curves or none she can play sports like science she can love girls or men or both she can color her lips blood red the walls of her bedroom shell pink watch the afternoon sun kiss the lace curtains and see that it is all good the girl can write poetry she can write code she can write legislation our daughters paint tiny colored stones leave them by the roadside talismans for their sisters yeah we re still here pass it on in the beginning was the girl physicist poet hooker charlatan housekeeper kept woman president ceo whatever alpha and omega pleasing to the goddess naked but not ashamed se1 posted in uncategorized leave a comment orpheus in st paul october 11 2020 by musepalace for finley brother orpheus it has been 60 days since you dove to the underworld what news do you bring what revelations do your stories have more power now did you rescue daniele today the october sun hangs high weeks before long the minnesota winter shards of orange and crimson i imagine the maple leaves on the lawn are fragments of you smiling brother orpheus you willed me your lyre i am not sure what to do with it it should be taken to heaven by muses cast among the stars no it sits on my dining room table mocking me go forth susan do something with it you will play music they will throw rocks and branches they won t harm you today the beggar priests come calling i turn them away i am clumsy there is nothing i can give them they look for you the angel lands at the end you could not charm the death with your music it took you it will take me it will take us all posted in uncategorized leave a comment pull tab poet hustler october 6 2020 by musepalace come on baby mama needs a cut and color and to pay the landscaper i need a new living room sofa i need to save for retirement i need to pay the rent come on baby mama needs a new life you ain t gonna get that from playin the 1 pull tab bin sister you plastic basket of infertile cardboard your brightly colored stars and smiley faces taunt me just like the poetry editors it s a numbers game more out less in that back table at the legion hall is my escape free internet cheap wine and all the pull tab tickets you can t afford all the poems you wish you can write but can t sometimes the sympathetic gods take pity one hundred fifty dollars shoot the moon money burn the old guffers at the bar tell me to pipe down blondie i just won two bucks on 50 can i sit by you you got luck you can if you spot the next round bro let me call my aa sponsor before i call the gambling addiction hotline they re both on speed dial yeah there s a poem in here posted in uncategorized leave a comment the perils of penelope pitstop august 12 2020 by musepalace i am up all night watching the flickering silver lights of late night tv you see i don t do well with turner classic movies the ladies are all too thin poreless grey skin sparkling vaselined eyelids gossamer gowns swirl without wrinkles or stains menstrual or otherwise they all speak with bostonian or fake put on english accents what s up with that i put on this rumpled ballgown yellowed satin and tatty lace and at the last moment my crash helmet the goggles the shiny white go go boots i lie down on the rails wineglass and cigarette in one hand reading rimbaud with the other help me help said in bad southern dialect and i realize i cannot raise the obligatory dramatic hand to my forehead my hands are full you see i am paralyzed by knowing it was not dangerous dick dastardly but myself who s chained herself to the tracks posted in uncategorized leave a comment 2020 has turned out to be 1968 all over again july 26 2020 by musepalace this is the year that has tested us all this is the year that has broken our hearts this is the year our loved ones died for no ostensible reason god damned virus could have been stopped no one needs to breathe their last left alone behind glass tended to by a kind heart in a hazmat suit this is the year i can t get home travel ban mandatory quarantines i will get there anyway this is the year the doctor told me i could be next the nurse stuck a swab in my nose scraped my brain clean like inhaling chorine water in my uncle s pool it burned for an hour after in my mind i was a mermaid bobbing below the surface struggling for air this is the year i want to be over this is the year i look deep inside of me turn the mirror on myself and others little white girl what are you going to do talk write do it fight talk write rail don t be mute this is the year that breaks my heart yesterday my friend s kid was killed in downtown minneapolis 37 th homicide in our city this year it s only july my heart breaks for her for all of you denied of the basic right to breathe to be this is the year i call out the old high school bully talking trash on facebook he says my muslim congresswoman was in al queda fake news this is the year i call out all the bullies the xenophobes the transphobes the homophobes haters take heed you know who you are you know we are all basically haters at heart afraid of the other the different the unknown it s scary right people different than us to think we might have the capacity to hate we do what do we do with it at the end of the day black white we are all racist we are all afraid of our differences unfamiliar we keep each other at an arm s length away what next we can stop this hate this year will be over soon we will stop can we stop what comes of 2020 will be a bloom a resurrection posted in poems the girl opines 1 comment kitchen july 19 2020 by musepalace a norman mailer cento andy you wanted something very white and formica something clean sterile you didn t want a plot just a situation among situations you wanted a centerpiece a pale albatross human sacrifice long legs in black tights ready to implode andy in a hundred years they will look at me see that incredibly cramped little set that tiny apartment that kitchen maybe it was eight feet wide or six photographed from a middle distance in a long low medium shot it looked even narrower nothing but the kitchen table the refrigerator the stove the male actors and me the refrigerator hummed and droned on the soundtrack i had a dreadful cold one of those colds you get spending the long winter in a cold water flat my voice dull it bounced off the enamel and plastic surfaces i was a horror to watch it was every boring dead day anyone has ever had in the city a time when everything wreaks of the odor of damp washcloths and old drains yes that is the way it was in the late fifties early sixties in america that s why they had the war in vietnam that s why the rivers became polluted that s why the horror came down that s why the plague was on its way andy i live my part too only i can t figure out what my part is in this movie posted in uncategorized leave a comment cottonwood june 5 2020 by musepalace late may early june it happens every year the cottonwood drifts down white fluff rains from the sky in the clear blue day settling along curbsides floating outside my window white heaps at the edge of the lawn god blows a kiss from his giant dandelions last year the children ate end of year barbeque and danced across chapel green at breck school dancing with the cottonwood swirling to the beatles played by the teacher band we drank cold lemonade ate oatmeal cookies now the whole world showers white and now we stay home afraid and wearing masks summer came quickly as it always does in minneapolis it is 90 degrees the air is thick and heavy a knee pressed on my neck i cannot breathe you cottonwood tree your irony is not lost on me you white fluff raining from the sky tragic beauty you are all i know you the white baggage piled high at my curb posted in poems leave a comment pandemic pizza may 20 2020 by musepalace you sterile cardboard carton presented to me with gloved hands or worse left on the bottom concrete step of my front porch what wonders of mozzarella cheese and meat await inside for the third time this week i imagine you are mussels and linguine lobster or scallops delicate and served with butter sauce and warm bread on real dishes not paper plates the server pours cold pinot grigio we do not recoil from the diners nearby you sterile cardboard carton there is a 50 coupon taped to your top for my next order posted in uncategorized leave a comment once i dated a lifeguard may 19 2020 by musepalace for andy in my mind you still wear a starched pink oxford and crisp khakis you drive a corvette with a vanity plate your initials asl you had a second car late model brown sedan what kind of 19 year old has two cars i am not allowed to brush my hair in that corvette or to eat the ice cream cone you bought me at the dairy queen vanilla dipped in chocolate yes you were a bit of an idiot you admitted it yes i was worried about the sticky melt dripping down my hand i worried about everything back then in my mind we sit awkwardly at the movie while the roy rogers charity basket passes in synch with the preview on the screen happy trails you crazy kids it was a spielberg movie e t you held my hand and i died a little inside 17 year old me i ate buttery popcorn and drank icy orange soda licked the salt off my right hand while you squeezed the other in my mind we sit on the beach at cove island stamford connecticut you tanned muscle lifeguard man me shy irish girl in my brand new jantzen one piece turquoise blue covered the flaws only i saw small breasts wide eyes i was so out of my league you pass me a coke from the cooler cold delicious i stretch my legs out on the towel and relax pink frosted toenails burrow into the rough sand finally from that beach we could see darien the other side of the harbor the rich town it didn t look so different but it could have been a thousand miles away we didn t care thirty years later we exchange memories you hated parties you liked girls in mini skirts i thought i was a wallflower but you said i was pretty pretty me i flew into the full moon in the basket of a bike that night in 1982 funny how life ends up posted in poems the girl opines leave a comment older posts follow me on twitter my tweets email subscription enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email email address get a tiara join 465 other subscribers upcoming readings friday february 17 2017 7 30 pm hudson valley writers center 300 riverside dr sleepy hollow ny monday march 13 2017 7 30 pm barnes noble stamford town center stamford ct top posts pages blogroll clockwise cat crap mariner s 100 word stories huckleberry hax james scully john stanton joy leftow karima hoisan lizzie gudkov mary donnaruma sharnick nedgjean bassist extraordinnaire patti smith s poetry project nyc rust moth searching for ithaka yuganta press categories musings poems the girl opines uncategorized archives archives select month october 2020 august 2020 july 2020 june 2020 may 2020 april 2020 march 2020 february 2020 november 2019 october 2019 september 2019 june 2019 february 2019 january 2019 december 2018 october 2018 august 2018 july 2018 march 2018 february 2018 january 2018 november 2017 october 2017 september 2017 july 2017 june 2017 may 2017 april 2017 march 2017 february 2017 january 2017 december 2016 november 2016 october 2016 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theater danbury with john stanizzi christina rau and isabel espinal collaboratin with herm freeman and chance brown herm s loft studio barnes noble read stamford waltzing toward armegddon studio 353 nyc feb 2017 blog stats 10 788 hits create a free website or blog at wordpress com wpthemes muse palace create a free website or blog at wordpress com subscribe subscribed muse palace join 42 other subscribers sign me up already have a wordpress com account log in now privacy muse palace subscribe subscribed sign up log in report this content view site in reader manage subscriptions collapse this bar loading comments write a comment email required name required website design a site like this with wordpress com get started
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