409

 

All of the orange arrangements on my calendar are like the Beach Boys. 

I want the yellow and orange calendar on my wall to be the Beach Boys green 

blue constellations of days like in Pet Sounds.  I want my calendar to be 

arranged like a pink orange Beach Boys record with lots of great pink 

temperatures. I wish the pink sunset and all the stucco buildings in Pico Fairfax 

were the Beach Boys so I could cruise around.  I hear the blue sea lions and the 

screaming people on the Big Dipper ride at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk and 

they are all funny deep blue Beach Boys. I want a pink and gold Beach Boys film 

to wash across my body and show the world the way a sunset does. I want the 

blue and green Beach Boys Don’t Worry Baby to be the blue air all over.  I want 

the blue and green Beach Boys Don’t Worry Baby to be my plan.   

  

409

I wish the pink sunset and all the stucco buildings in Pico Fairfax were 

the Beach Boys so I could cruise around.  

I want a pink and gold Beach Boys film to wash across my body and show the 

world the way a sunset does. 

I want the blue and green Beach Boys Don’t Worry Baby to be my plan.

 

The Alanon Coloring Book

My mother brings home a coloring book 

that she won’t let me color in.

Everyone in this coloring book 

is an anthropomorphic cat 

with problems.  

They all look crazy, 

and sad, 

or like they want to hurt 

the other cats. 

On one page,

a belligerent, drunk

cat guy wearing pants

screams, beats 

the crap out of a wall.

Behind the wall 

he bangs on,

the cat man’s cat wife

and little kitten kids

have white faces.

They hide together 

in the bedroom,

with a chair

pushed up against

the door.

When I ask my mother 

why I can’t color 

in this book.

She says it’s because 

everyone in this book

is her.

When I ask her 

why the cat man is 

so angry,

she says it’s because he was her

when she was very 

confused.

 

FOR A WHILE THE ART WAS SO BAD  – BLACK FLOWERS IN BALL POINT

PEN ON A PIECE OF WHITE POSTERBOARD AND KIND OF LIKE THIS

POEM ALL OF MY POEMS WERE LIKE THAT FOR A WHILE AND LIKE

THIS BECAUSE:

 

I don't want anything

I don't want anything from you

 

besides look at me.  

Look at me.

Somebody’s dead.

Look at me.

 

I know pain.

I know pain.

Pain

puts us

outside.

I’m outside.

I have been,

and I have something,

and it’s for you.

 

 

Liz Peters works as the program manager at Bowery Poetry and studies translation at Queens College.  Her poems have appeared in No, Dear Magazine, JDB Records and on the album Warszawa by the rock band Point Reyes (Cakes and Tapes, 2012).  She used to live in California.