she’s only foreshadowing catastrophe,
skips back 3 lines, crossout
replaces something about his eyes with words of anger
writing *you never touched me like you wanted to touch me
just writing out a prelude to disaster
a series of statements of fact
writing *a rose dethorned is not a rose to me and it just feels stupid
like a kiss on the nose when you say we belong together
writing *there are things you cannot give me,
there are things I don’t dare take –
she always wanted to love only you but there have been some technical
difficulties
writing *there is something very wrong at the core of the bones of the
legs that are wrapped around your legs
she always wanted to love only you, but instead she sits and writes
I WISH TO USE MY BODY AS A TORCH TO DISSIPATE THIS
the ritual of wanting him is everyday
and his hands are the only home she’s ever known
now homeless, her meticulous handwriting becomes a child’s scrawl
writing *you want this don’t you? you’ll miss this body when it’s gone
which is sooner than you think everyday something more is crushed out of
me everyday i lose beauty with interest
suicides for political reasons set fire to themselves
white males with tattoos use guns
suicides for love are imbeciles
suicides with financial reasons jump off footstools every night for a week
before going to the bridge
suicide notes range from three letters to fifteen years long
she is only foreshadowing catastrophe
she writes i don’t know why but i feel more than half dead i feel more than
half disinterested in everything except your skin
today for the first day in a long time i feel like nothing
the need for your mouth is playing hell with my head against the need for
the feel of a knife in my back i always wanted to love only you
and i’m only foreshadowing catastrophe
"Corrina Bain is Worcester born and bred. Yes, she really is sixteen. No one is quite sure what went wrong. She frequents the Worcester Poets' Asylum, the Coney Island Hot Dogs reading, and the Providence spoken word scene is acquainted with her evil twin. She has recently lost her purpose. If you or someone you know has come across an odd looking stray purpose, please contact her and let her know. (Her purpose has been known to hide under strange men's beds and pretend to be a dustbunny. Be forewarned, it bites.)"
Corrina Bain read her poetry at the Folk 'n' Word Festival, Oct. 10, 1999, at the Green Rooster Coffeehouse, 6 Institute Road, Worcester, Mass.
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