How to live life out loud
have a heart full of eleven
braces and pigtails, tree houses
and shy glances at Shaun
but ovaries closed shop 
breasts slump
skin no longer full of want
(but still wanting the wanting)
I wash my hair in suds of white grief 
and comb out decades of regret
where are the twelve hail Mary’s 
to get out of jail free
take, eat
the narcotic holiness of pills

Outdated maps guide my life
like light from stars that left long ago
at night, I read bedtime stories to myself
I need a psychic or an MRI or a direct line to god
there must be laws
there must be rules
to guide us like a GPS
the hip bone connected to the thigh bone
or is it like the square root of 33
an answer that never ends
can we set the karmic clock to zero
and play hopscotch in the street
before we are wheeled down the hall
under a stiff white sheet