has a new look

Go to the new

Poetry by Dustin Brookshire

Dustin lives in Georgia.




© 2005 Dustin Brookshire



The Mistress And I

She comes when I'm gone
leaving the smell of her
perfume swimming in the
air that belongs to me.
The smell, a note,
explaining to me
everything you've done;
I hate the way
she dots her i's,
the way she crosses
her her t's.

She comes when I'm gone
to lay by your side,
to be underneath you
for a short while.
When you're done,
once she's faked it
she'll lay in my spot
thinking of me.
She wonders if
I fake it too.

She comes when I'm gone
to fulfill her lust
of being the other one.
She comes and she goes;
I know each time.
I smell her perfume;
her little note telling
me she's laid in
my spot; she's thought
of me while being under you.






She says when her right knee aches
the clouds will be moving in,
and when her left knee aches
the rain will follow soon.
Are her joints prophets of the weather
because she has always been right?
No one thinks she could ever be wrong.
Is it pressure in the articulations?
Is there a swirling demon inhabiting
where the patella should be?
No one knows the answer to the question
of how her predications come about,
but everyone knows they're valid.
May be a family trait
or simply a fluke of nature.






After The Interview
for Dr. Gylys

She said,
I'm fascinated with the way
we can purposely betray someone,
how we know we're doing wrong
then feel guilty with a chance
of it all happening again.
You can take someone's heart
and destroy it, a piece of ice
placed in the sun's light.
You can hold someone's hand
so softly, yet twist it suddenly
to bring about tears and pain.

I'm fascinated with the way
you can become the betrayed
when once you were the betrayer.
In a way you're given medicine
for an illness you once passed on.
The way you miss the warning signs
even though at one time you created
them knowing the place of every nail,
you held the signs high in the air.

I'm fascinated with betrayal.
I'm fascinated with sin itself;
the way it captures us all at
like fishes on a hook.





First AIDS Test

I was 19 when I had my first
AIDS test; no longer a virgin or
why else would we have
made that 15 minute drive
that seemed like 15 hours
to the testing center.
I had to go because of you,
but I can't blame you alone--
no, I was stupid, I let you
slide into me uncovered.
I let you enter me,
and the foolish part of
my brain gagged the sensible
part before it could say,
'This shouldn't happened.'
The foolish part of my brain
gagged and tied the sensible
part and quietly tucked her
away out of sight so he
could be heard and say,
'Let's get this started.'
Every time you entered me
I felt loved.
Every time you entered me
I trusted you more.
I craved you; you were my first.
And it was after six months
of our love making,
well, my love making
your lust indulging,
that I found out you shared
your bed with others---
so many others.
I shuddered.
I cried.
I screamed at God,
but it wasn't His fault.
It was yours;
it was mine.
And that's when I made
you take me to get the test.
I made you pay for it.
I refused to let you touch me after;
I refused to listen to your I'm sorries.
I was trying to find a safe world
where every billboard read NEGATIVE.
I was having a dream with a beautiful song
and everyone singing sang NEGATIVE.
For two weeks I waited.
Two weeks of prayers, promises, and
thoughts of what I'd do to you
if my life took a viral change.
But in the end, it came out negative---
I was born to live again.





All work is copyrighted property of Dustin Brookshire.



[back to top]  [home]


© 2005 SubtleTea Productions   All Rights Reserved