Kristina Used to Live in the Woods

from Perfect Sleeping Weather by Larry Fulford

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Scrawled into notebooks from the familiar comforts of temporary homes and the passenger seats of mechanically unsound vehicles adrift on the highways and back roads of America, Perfect Sleeping Weather is fifteen years of thoughts, observations, facts, and fictions hammered into a collection of poetry that, according to one reader, "sounds like a sigh."

In this, his first book, writer/drummer/comedian Larry Fulford reflects on the usual -- life, death, love and leaving -- while still managing to name-check Van Halen. Twice.

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lyrics

The wooden head on a vast green beer.
A tent for a home
and leaves for toilet paper.

She calls irregularly
whenever she’s in town,
which is once or twice a year,
and it always ends with, “I’ll call you back,”
and I never do.

I’m sure she’s still got that guitar.

She used to live on two guys’ kitchen floor.
I saw her bed
her fort.
NO BAD NEWS ALLOWED.
She wanted to keep that shit out.
Not a lot of room for it
between her pillow
and the dog’s food bowl.

But I took her to prom years ago.
She wore a powder blue dress
and looked like Cinderella,
the kind of girl who’d grow up to be an actress
and you’d see me in our prom picture
on Entertainment Tonight.

Only she liked trains and drugs
more than she liked paying rent.
She liked decorating her apartment
with paint and words
more than she liked vacuuming,
more than she liked asking her landlord
if it was cool if she covered her apartment
in paint and words.

The girl didn’t like structure
didn’t like rules.
She isn’t dead yet, I don’t know why
I’m writing in the past tense.

She ran over my foot with her car once
and I drove off, throwing her off my car once.
We were Sid and Nancy without the knife
just romantic baths
and fingers slammed in bedroom doors
and broken glass.

She might be in Hollywood now
or Oregon or San Francisco.
I know she always wanted to go west
but I liked her best
when she worked in the bakery at Walmart
and hated her job
but came home to me smelling like icing
and making sense.