Carolyn says you’re happy, thanks to our nice,
tangy mindfulness. You’re worth the investment.
You are constantly under assault from ordinary
hands, this group of people who crush the beans
happily. Drink some red wine—it triples the moon
in her comfort zone, an evil monster. A good story.
All I care about is everything all at once, I think.

It is not known if your unborn baby passes into
the pubic bone. Make sure you’re breathing.
The fluctuations your body experiences during
birth meet every tropical forest in total harmony
with the birds and monkeys. And a beehive—
not so new. Stay in a peaceful state of sea turtles.
During the day you can go search for yourself,
nothing else, your perfect place, so you can live.
The latest trend in women’s health care—a body,
a sharp little snap of the hand using a hammer.

With music, you don’t have to be yourself
for a long time. I look at myself differently
in the mirror, feeling the other side of this
sexy sugar, more bravada. Nothing is new.
My bold lip will create beautiful plants,
a hummingbird, edible flowers filled with
gases, silky soft strands of sparks, barely
breathable. On a little cloud, a crowd of
scents—loss, big memories, their power.

Your future looks bright this spring.
Get excited, Suzy! We grow the minerals
ourselves; they’re as vibrant as sand.
Apply a sunset gaze for a warm swoon,
a pastel orange fire anywhere. No rules.
Use a fluffy aluminum to bond the lakes.
You won’t believe how creamy and crisp
these scones are—a gorgeous ombré
filling, a large bubbly beet devil, your
calm mind, honey. Any way you want.

Do it right: Choose your booze and back up
carefully into a blistered comfort zone, all

sunny, elegantly hip. Buttery leopard-print
booties. The real magic is brownies, a girl,
a lushly creepy mix of alternate universes

of food. There are times when you get to make
cakes where everything is moving to loud music.

Who gets me ready for the fancy things? I try
to be the main attraction, to look right. I am
just not a healthy eater. I ate doughnuts

and all these big, fun meals—guilty comfort.
I just want to have fun, still, for me alone.

You can change your voice so
you can try popping up with
bright personality. But don’t

stop there. A little intense—
a quick moment, only a minute
or so. Don’t overdress the subtle

pleasure of your enjoyment.
Feel good about indulgences:
a high-quality version of

your love for your family,
putting on a glove, working
on this planet, your way to live.

People love a tall, beautiful pubic bone.
Just remember, if you get pregnant,
it’s possible to take a trip, ride through
olive groves with a local chef for 4 days.
Total indulgence—the top priority here.
Enjoy the monkeys in the Hollywood Hills,
locally sourced, wellness-minded. Chic.
Convert food waste into ocean waste,
an amazing sight on the beach at night—
the bison in the distance, your hands.

Wet hair holds fine fabric, a soft smile
as soon as I walk in my door. I probably
started this ritual: a bath, my best stories,

toxic chemicals used to treat skin for
centuries, an acid mined from the earth
today. When you muddle through your
hurts, your body focuses your mind.

Start from within, you’ve heard. The day
has put together your hunger. No reply
by the bugs in your gut. Eat your mood.

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If you’re new here, let me tell you what I’m doing: Each month, I write poems using phrases from a different magazine. The phrases don’t have to be directly contiguous, but they do need to be in order rather than all jumbled up. So, I choose a word or a phrase and then look until I find another that will join it in an interesting way. Sometimes the final result tracks better than at other times, but I hope that each contains at least a portion that works well and says something. This month, the magazine is SHAPE. So far, it seems to have a pretty acquisitive take on health and fitness, which I guess shouldn’t be surprising.

With a big dose of pleasure, a dash of
sweet, stirring sex and love, do you like
your routine? I love chic, delicious spring,
a rich, decadent taste of the jungle—
simply beautiful, I feel. My holy grail?
Being in nature, a simpler lifestyle,
the socklike bootie of a new camera.
A blackberry sweet spot, light on a
little cloud. Gnarly terrain, the sun.
You’ve fallen in love with your body,
200 feet in the air, at its best.

____________________________________________________________________________________________
A new month means a new magazine. This time, it’s SHAPE, whose theme I would summarize as “health through buying things.”

You dressed up as a detective when you were 5 years old,
fierce and feminine, feeling fresh as a damn daisy. Oh, shit!
Pls try again tomorrow. It was that easy to fail, after that
spiral of one-ply toilet paper. Fuuuck it. We were all
rooting for you. Vodka, dry shampoo, and Ariana Grande:
How much time do you need? You overslept and have
two minutes. Dawg, IDK how it ends. I just remember
the anxiety of a messy bun, two girls in similar outfits,
your parents’ garage. You can’t remember the last time
you washed your hair. That’s a personality trait, Sister.

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The last day of March means that this is my last poem written from phrases pulled (in order) from the March 2020 issue of Cosmopolitan. It took some time to settle into this magazine, but it ended up being one of my two favorites—the other one being the one I started with, the December 2019 issue of Good Housekeeping. Talk about opposites!