lavender disaster 
after Andy Warhol

elect-trick me daddy &
i'll repeat my name twelve times
across a plane. 
your color's 
a cliche you say but i'm dying
for some release, a chess board 
a dollar bill. 
bow my tongue,
it's a present. they do needles
know you know? fill a vein 
with euthanasia; there's
youth in asia & i'm here
your purple-paralytic
prize & prop me up. how cruel
is that? to go without 
a show or some god damn 
repetition? the o-c-d in me
loves the symmetry.
if you're going to use
capital punishment it ought 
to be even, saved for
the really mauve people.
the chair sit overs & over
again in my living room,
gone lavender with waiting.
it's angry color, really, i think.
the straps hold me upright
& the electrodes tongue
at my brain through my ears.
we're made of shocks & 
standing at a distance
from things we don't like.
i watch myself 
get into the chair 
eighteen times, one for
every year i was a girl.
yes, kill her off.
what better way to go?
a lavender disaster 
just like me.
every hair stands on end,
the body crashes 
onto plasma globe. 
hurt me, yes hurt me. 
i want the tingle & the burn,
the flesh gone poultry white
& pork peeling.
becoming wall paper, 
i climb across 
the electric chairs,
find one that suits me 
& the light switch 
is the lever. 
come home
come home 
come home.