It Occurs To Me I Am The Creative/Destructive Goddess Coatlicue a poem by Sandra Cisneros

I deserve stones.

Better leave me the hell alone.

I am besieged.

I cannot feed you. 

You may not souvenir my bones,

knock on my door, camp, come in,

telephone, take my Polaroid. I'm paranoid,

I tell you. Lárguense. Scram.

Go home.

I am anomaly. Rare she who

cant stand kinds and can't stand you.

No excellent Cordelia cordiality have I.

No coffee served in tidy cups.

No groceries in the house.

I sleep to excess,

smoke cigars,

drink. Am at my best

wandering undressed,

my fingernails dirty,

my hair a mess.

Terribly

sorry, Madame isn't 

feeling well today.

Must

Greta Garbo.

Pull an Emily D.

Roil like Jean Rhys.

Abiquiu myself. 

Throw a Maria Callas. 

Shut myself like a shoe. 

Stand back. Christ

almighty. I'm warning. 

Do not. Keep

out. Beware. 

Help! Honey,

this means 

you.