clip my toe nails like the moon,
sticky bun door knobs,
and running from me like rotisserie chicken.

i want to be ugly 
spin me on a diner stool.
i want to be ugly again 
finally--
ive missed it-- ive been playing dress up
with paper napkins in the mirror-- making veils
to keep the toast crumbs from my lap at
the diner-- we sit at the counter-- i
eat hard boiled eggs from the nest
of ice berg lettuce we bodies learn 
to crash into-- freeze and sink slowly--
play violins on the deck of a fork
and the side of a spoon-- carving 
our names in the side of the rock
jutting from the plate--
no we were not pretty-- no we weren't 
folded back edges of our bodies--
dog ear my hips into handles--
we modified these torsos with less air
make me an hour glass to tip over
and over and over
spun sticky bun fingers wiping 
sand or sugar from counting these minutes
standing on my head
-- put your
feet on the toilet seat-- clip your 
toe nails into another moon sliver--
we ugly 
bodies know how to make use of an
eclipse-- know to flush
the moon down the toilet-- watch it
grown full as a cinnamon bun--
when i was nine my uncle taught me
how to be ugly-- 
eating with hands-- not
the side of a fork-- cutting into
the arctic and the ice berg-- 
step on cherry tomatoes--
we learned
rotisserie chicken warm lap-- break
bird skin like bread-- dig finger
in grease and heat lamp these
arms into crackle-- brown
the arch of my back i was
only ever ugly and waiting for a heat
lamp-- they don't remind you the
moon is only one of our toe nail clippings
and im tired of pretending that i
want to eat cereal from a measuring
cup at the counter-- i am a sourdough
sausage sandwich-- sticky bun
cheeks full of enough ugly for
you to forget im supposed to be a girl
supposed to napkin lap-- coiled
like a hard boiled egg on
the spine of lettuce curl--
i like to be ugly-- foot poised 
in conquest of a toilet seat--
you thought i was kidding about
the chicken? 
yes i eat chicken from my
lap and it keep me warm--
i split sticky buns with no
boys anymore
-- they can fear my ugly--
fade in my toe nail eclipse-- 
ill show
them how to eat lettuce and smile
bright as a toe nail night--
even boys can learn what we 
do to stop them from calling us ugly--
no i want to be your ugly--
what you call ugly i call 
goddess of the toilet seat--
queen of a diner cushion-- spun 
into a sticky bun-- pull out my
hair in clumps until i can be 
bald enough from the heat lamp--
boil peel off this chicken skin--
drum dark meat on the bathroom door--
stick stick sticky with the grease
on the door knob--
its your turn to clip the moon
from my feet--
this is what it takes to pay tribute--
take the other wing-- i prefer 
to eat the legs--
that way i know at least that boy
can't run when he finds out
im here to become an ugly 
girl-- i don't share sticky buns--
these are mine and 
so is the door knob