Poem 6

Globes of water shimmer with reflections of modular homes
Each dollhouse is complete with plastic action figures
The sky is gray and blue and angry in revolt
The grass glistens with tinsel like Christmas trees in the rain

The grass is cold and wet as its blades wrap my arms and jeans
I dream of carelessness and rolling in the mud of watery holes and ditches
Wet hangs in the air after the storm
I can hear the yelling fighting hatred even from the yard

I pretend the low clouds are rafts to carry me to sleep
But the words ricochet in my mind
Like alarm bells ringing louder and louder
I press my hands against my ears and SCREAM!

Poem 5

the past appears at every turn
imprints in my mind still burn
life is ironic and full of twists
it defies your charts and lists
roll the dice and let it ride
don't ever show your softer side
they'll use you like the tool you are
they don't know that their words scar
drink your beer, text on your phone
no one will notice you're alone
everything will be better tomorrow
drink your wine and drown your sorrow

Dive Bar

Ripped vinyl chairs with dull chrome legs
Black ash in little piles off ashtrays
The band on stage seems really bored
Anticipation hangs in smoky air
She can feel his silent stare

Torn fliers taped to the bathroom wall
He's not feeling those drinks at all
Why isn't she coming back?
Confusion hangs in smoky air
He can feel her hateful stare

Guitar feedback rings through the haze
Cheap wine buzz floods her head
Crowds make her feel like she can't stay
Desperation hangs in smoky air
She can feel his lonely stare

Random Things

Charcoal burgers on a cool fall day
He says exactly what you hoped he'd say
Random things make me smile
I wish I could play a while

PBRs on the deck out back
A little shot of Coke in a big glass of Jack
Random things make me smile
I wish I could stay a while

Scratchy vinyl music playing
His smile says that he is staying
Random things that make me smile
I wish I could play a while

Old movies on a stormy night
Dreams imagined by the firelight
Random things make me smile
I wish I could stay awhile

Irene

Thick air wraps her in a warm blanket
Salty raindrops roll down her back
She wipes her arm along her forehead
Her intention lost in his smack

She can't remember anymore who she used to be before
The bourbon numbs her stinging pain, angry words leave bitter stain

The whitewashed back door swings wildly
Paint chips fade with whole lives gone by
Intentions and dreams crash her focus
Heavy brown eyes too tired to cry

She can't remember anymore who she used to be before
The bourbon numbs her stinging pain, angry words leave bitter stain

Over and over her heart skips
And she wrings her palms like wet cloth
She takes a long slow cigarette drag
And dreams of blue ocean gray with froth

She can't remember anymore who she used to be before
The bourbon numbs her stinging pain, angry words leave bitter stain

The Actual Correspondence with Massage Envy

Re: Massage EnvySaturday, April 2, 2011 3:19 PMFrom: This sender is DomainKeys verified"April Rowen" aprilrowen.massageenvy@gmail.com

I am so sorry, but I needed to know by yesterday, due to the fact of employee's needing time off. We have already taken that morning off of the books, but if you want to come in that evening we will be able to accommadate you still.
I am so sorry for the inconvenience, we do have other locations in the Charlotte area if you would like to check with any one of them as well.

Thanks,
April Rowen



On Sat, Apr 2, 2011 at 3:09 PM, Diane Costa wrote:

hi april. thanks for working on this! here are the names. everyone wants a massage. the lemon water and cookies sound wonderful. we will not bring alcohol. we still plan to bring biscuits though. look forward to hearing from you. --diane

1. Diane Costa
2. Emese Syfert
3. Alyssa Larose
4. Laura Dean
5. David Dean - prefers a female
6. Jenn Earnest
7. Rick McDaniel
8. Tiffany Kramer
9. Carol Asiaghi
10. Jess Jones
11. Jennifer Marks
12. Lori Warren
13. Debbie Dean
14. Fiona Ulrich - (preteen, so I'd prefer a female)



On Thu, 3/31/11, April Rowen wrote:
From: April Rowen
Subject: Massage Envy
To: diane.tarheel@yahoo.com
Date: Thursday, March 31, 2011, 5:28 PM
Hello Diane,
I hope you are doing well with your wedding plans :) .
I will need to know by tomorrow, exactly how many people are coming (including all first and last names), who has a male or female preference for their therapist, and if anyone would like a facial instead.
As far as the drinks go, we are only permitted to give water to our clients. I am sorry, but you will not be able to bring any kind of alcohol with you inside the clinic.
We will provide lemon water and cookies for you and your guests.
Please email me back as soon as today or tomorrow, so I can begin getting your party on the schedule by this weekend.

Thanks,
April Rowen
Assistant Clinic Administrator
Massage Envy - Northlake
704-596-7800

Massage Envy (Northlake branch) Sucks!

Do not use this spa. They do not honor contracts. I had planned a wedding-related outing for 14 people (many out of town guests). I was told twice that the spa was reserved for our party by April Rowen over the phone. Then they cancelled my entire event via EMAIL. Their excuse was that I didn't confirm the guest list fast enough, although I responded to the email in under 48 hours. I was also accused of not paying a credit card deposit. They never asked for one at any point. Please do not support this unprofessionalism. They have put my family in a horrible position now, and I have reported them to the better business bureau as well as wbtv news. I have also posted on yelp.com. Thanks for listening!

Poem 4

An upbeat tune beckons first softly, then louder in the dusk
Little ones yank their mothers' arms away from sinks full of dirty dishes
A staccato of slamming screen doors as eager youngsters race outside
Crumpled bills and dirty quarters plunk onto the truck's metal ledge

Exuberant children peel sticky wrappers off cones and popsicles
Sugary rainbow drops melt into abstract puddles on steaming asphalt
Lying in the cool grass, tossing off flipflops, carefree musings
Waiting to catch fireflies in a glass mason jar

Poem 3

The cafe is buzzing with palpable energy at midday
She sits at a small wrought iron table with a glass top
Beams of sunlight refract through a crystal goblet of wine
And bend off the glass surface in every which way
Lighting the faces of busy strangers bustling down the avenue
In three piece suits, black-rimmed glasses, and shiny shoes
Chatting endlessly on phones, puffing vigorously on smokes
They march like a horde of soldiers with mechanical determination
She opens a worn secondhand novel from the library
The yellowing dog-earred pages are familiar and comforting
She tries to push out all the distractions, so much empty noise
She swirls the wine in her mouth, and it feels warm sliding down her throat
Her tan legs are outstretched on the chair, soaking in the sun's energy
She takes a deep breath of air filled with espresso and fresh pastries
She is completely content in this moment

Poem 2

His grubby finger traced a meandering wood grain on the old park bench.
Preparing to settle in for a frigid evening, he drank a shot of stinging cheap whiskey.
Drunk and sleepy, he was alarmed to see a strange face glaring at him.
"Did I startle you?" asked the feeble well-dressed stranger with a cane.

He did not want conversation, did not want interaction.
He mumbled unintelligibly, averted his eyes, and pretended to be passed out.
"You don't fool me" whispered the upstanding stranger.
"Those tattered dirty clothes are just a costume. Your someone's son."

At that, he tried to scare the stranger. "Get off of my bench, or I'll stick this knife in your neck."
He didn't have a knife, but men like the stranger were always scared of dirty boys with knives.
Men like the stranger only wanted one thing from boys like him in the park.
Surely the stranger would leave now, and he could finally rest.

The stranger delicately reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny silver gun.
He aimed it at the dirty teen and said, "I had a son just like you and a worrying wife once."
"She committed suicide, and now I have no one. This is for your mother"
With that, the stranger shot him in the head.

The dirty teen slumped over, blood dripping down the rails of the park bench,
Making patterns as it mingled with the dark wood grain he'd been tracing moments earlier.
The stranger gingerly put the gun back in his coat and walked away.
He was a new man now, a killer.

Poem 1

Air so thick it swaddles her like a warm blanket
Salty rivulets of sweat rolling down her back
She wipes her arm across her forehead in a haphazard way
Her intention lost in the weight of the moment

The whitewashed back door with the chipped paint swings
Back and forth, crashing against the house, jarring her consciousness
Every time her heart palpitates, and she wrings her palms
She breathes in a long smooth drag of cigarette
And dreams of the blue ocean