Cameron Skye Wheeler

Category: Poetry

  • 1980s Girl

    1980s girl wake up on Douglas and,
    Turn the Cadillac red plastic bathroom radio on
    Listen to Duran Duran
    And you don’t tease your hair because you are too conscientious
    Not to have it permed, you spray it stiff and barbie-like

    Peg your jeans, 1980s girl and,
    You kill your mother
    And you paint your bedroom green while she is at work
    You buy high cut bikini bottoms at the mall, walking around
    In glossy chocolate brown square toed heels

    You watch MTV in the living room and you have a quick
    Cigarette inside, and you thrash your arms like bird wings and bare your teeth
    And your friends laugh, and they suck up the smell like vacuum cleaners
    Radio still playing upstairs, you forgot it on,
    Immortal 1980s girl

  • My Little Boy

    I paid for you because I wanted you 
    And you were born into a world where I can buy your body 
    And own you forever. I regret that
    But I don’t regret buying you 
    My little boy 

    I heard you cry before I ever saw you
    Did you know? I was once small too
    Curled into silence, waiting for my mother
    She must have trembled to hear me at last
    A sound without a face, not yet held but already loved

    You were, tiny, cloud-like, trembling 
    My single pink bald hand encircling your tiny torso 
    Lifting you to my lips to kiss, irresistibly 
    You were my little boy 
    With blue eyes, still learning to be alive 
    You cried for me like I was your mother 
    Happy to be deputized as such but at the same time not 
    Your mother 
    I am really sorry about this

    I fed you with a pipette,
    Wiped your behind, bathed you, held you to sleep 
    If I had birthed you, you would be no closer to my heart
    My little boy 

    You were so young when you became mine
    I was so young too 
    When you are old I will still be young
    When you are dead I will still be young 
    But you will always and forever be
    My little boy