**directions for my merry christmas present**

all I
don’t want
before christmas is the same
nagging annoying
question:
“what do you want for Christmas?” this
question truly
sux
the BIG
weenie!…

-i’ll take a gift
certificate in
any denomination
to anywhere
in the USA I
am not
picky-

o, I’m not getting you that,
you ask for the same
thing every year for
your b-day for valentines day, easter 4th of July Christmas
same thing for Hanukah and
you ain’t even jewish I
want to get you something
special that you can
unwrap

-o, you say the same
thing every year when it’s
my b-day valentines day, easter 4th of july Christmas
you want to get me something
special that I can
unwrap and
you’re not getting me that
and no, I am not Jewish but
I celebrate
nonetheless-

I am particularly
popular when it comes
to the difficulty
of acquiring untypical
fancy gifts by any of them who are not typical
fancy gift-giving people and
when I make it
comfortable and uncomplicated
it’s not enough they
have an urge like
a heavy yearning
for the taste of my pussy when
I have sex
therapy with
me or
any one of them so
they go
out of their way
to outdo
the next so
now
I have resorted
to the production and
distribution of carbon-
copied
xmas present directions of
what to get and
what to do with
what they got once they
get it:

purchase the
gift certificate stick it in an
unmarked
envelope stick the unmarked
envelope in a
plain brown paper bag enclose the
plain brown paper bag in
bubblewrap bubblewrap the
bubblewrap and place the
bubblewrapped bubblewrap carefully inside a
BIG cardboard BOX and fill the
BIG cardboard BOX with
styrofoam peanuts so
if I get the urge to shake, rattle or
rock the BIG cardboard BOX I
will not hear
jingle-jangle
santa claus
xmas noises and
I won’t be able to
guess what’s in there
cover it with pretty
paper snowflake
paper falling over
a Los Angeles holiday
scene and
glue
a bright red rain bow
at the corner and
I’ll never know
the difference and if I do know
the difference I’ll
act
surprised…

…it’s as simple as
that…

fa la la la la!

---

**this hair**

I phone mark:

“I have a dentists
appointment
today and I need
a ride.”

“what’s the matter
with your van?”

“I don’t
want to drive I
am pissed
off.”

“whatta bout?”

“it has all come
down to
necessity and
insanity…”

“what has?”

“well, days ago
when I was with
you you
refused
to shave your balls and
now I have
this hair this hair
stuck like a root
between the bottom
two front
teeth and
it mostly sticks out
like a prickly
pine needle
in back
toward the under-
part of
my tongue my tongue
can not pry
it loose no
matter
whichway I
flick it and
I am
fanatical!”

“have you tried
dental floss?”

“the dental floss
holder
is empty but
I did try
sewing thread
sawing
back and forth
up and down
infront inback and
in between and
it still don’t
budge.”

“whatta bout
brushing?”

“I have ---
over and over and
over with
a brush called
”reach”
and it didn’t ---
fuck!”

“o o.k., I’ll be right
over.”

I pull a long
strand
of hair from the side
of my head
slide it in the
slit between the
bottom middle teeth
tug back and forth
nothing moves
so I try the tip
of a nail
file
scratch scrape and
stab myself
in the gum I
hold my mouth
in my hands and
gurgle bloody
obscene sounds and
I throw the nail file
into the toilet.

I rinse my mouth
with lukewarm
water
jut my bottom
jaw forward
and look into the mirror
and and and
that hair was
still stuck
still.

mark was here
lickity split
laffin
down the hall-
way all the
way to the
bathroom.

“man, mark I am
sick of dickin’
with this pubic hair
and I ain’t ever again
suckin your balls
unless you
shave
em first!”

“I brought
my electric tooth
brush, try this and…
haHahahaHAhaha
…I’ll see what
else I can
find.”

I flip
the bird as
he walks off
to someplace else and
I switch it on and watch
myself in the mirror as
the brush
buzzes and whirrs
around
I stop and look and
now the pube
is stuck out
to the front
like like like
A BUSH!

mark was back and
doesn’t stop
laffing.

“stop being
a dickhead what
do I do
now?”

“let me
operate.”

he squeezes
lifts my chin til
my mouth opens
wide
inside his palm and
he looks in
close
and he
picks and clicks and pricks
in between my bottom teeth and
I roll my eyes
to the ceiling
sky
finally
he snatches
that little pubic hair
with a pair
of tweezers and
I kiss him.

he kisses me
back
on the nose
tosses the culprit
down the toilet.

“hey, that was
kind of arousing…” he
said, “…let’s
go to bed.”

and I said…

“cancel the
dentists appointment
first.”

---

**pertaining to soot**

I'm inside winter 1999
and the nights are
cold in philadelphia
I think
about soot I don't think
about soot
in the springtime or in
the middle of breezy summer
days or nights…
of course, I don't have
to think
about soot at all-
I don't have a chimney or
a fireplace but
what concerns me most is
when I visit
friends relatives and lovers
during the holidays, their
lack of soot intelligence is very
disturbing when
I see sticky black smoke
goo
flaming up
the outside of brick and/or stoned
fireplaces and
I mention the possibility
of soot
disaster, they tell me
they've never thought about soot or
it's consequences...

the main fact about soot is
it's high
blowby status when
it's backed
up up
there and
I tell you you're doomed
if you ignore
your soot-
the risk of
concrete propelling toward you
with forces mightier than
a tidal wave while
roasting peanuts chestnuts walnuts marshmallows
destroying secret
love letters or making
                               love
in front of a cozy fireplace
infested
with soot is
horrifying...

all I ask
for is
for
a safe environment when I visit
a desire to make
it to the new century and
dammit I demand
safe
sex!

cait collins ©1999