techniques for gripping the dirt

gravity was a girl with fishtail braids.
lately i feel light as a plastic bag
haunting a tree branch. someone told me once
that a poem can't just sound beautiful
it needs to have a purpose. fuck your purpose.
i'm walking my shark down main street.
he is swimming so well & i am so proud of him.
people walking by don't notice my shark because
they aren't considering the possibilities
but one day they might have pet sharks too.
i noticed sometimes all the lights in my house
turn purple. a lot of violet light.
when that happens i invite past lovers over 
& we dance to no music in the silent purple.
that light reveals all our stains
& some of them resemble continents 
& some of them resemble faces. 
i planted an apple tree in the microwave.
it's in full blossom. i stab a white flower
with a fork & feed it to a boy who i have
happily tied up in my bed. outside the pollution 
is so thick sometimes it feels like 
walking through jello. slow motion. 
red jello where the sun should be. the trees
have given up on photosynthesis & have
switched over to wind power. they're just
trying to be consciencious. 
there's no recycling bins on our block 
so i send my soda bottles to the landfil
where they will learn to sing hymns.
my partner says i should go to church
if i want to see the stained glass 
but i don't know if it's worth the grief
of order. sitting & kneeling & sitting 
& standing & crossing yourself.
what do you tell yourself when you wake up
with a balloon tied to your arm?
i look at the balloon a few seconds before destroying it
& saving the rubber skin. i'm not a hoarder
but if i don't save these things who will?
life is a series of decisions whether or not
to hold on. i'm not holding on to the ground anymore.
there are girls who used to perform gravity on me 
& now they lift me up. i tell them i need 
to keep my feet on the ground 
but that just makes them giggle & tilt me.
it is seventh grade again & i remind myself over & over
one day someone will love me. my eyeliner 
with thick as a plum. 
i am fishing for a shark
in the river. when this happens 
i think about heavy objects breaking windows.
a rock. a brick. a shoe. i think of
all the knee caps out there. the girls give up
then & i'm left here with another balloon
in the purple light with all these boys 
hungry for flowers.