Rooftop Poetry Club - Lauren Giglia

Lauren Giglia

Bio:
Lauren Giglia is a graduate of Erie Community College North, and a current student at Buffalo State College. Though her concentration is criminal justice, she hopes to find a comfortable medium between crime and writing someday. She has quietly made her way into the Buffalo Literary scene being a frequent open mic reader at The Screening Room, which lead her to her first featured read in December 2007. She has been described as 'powerful, strong, and in your face' by her listeners.

Poems:

His Heart

His heart, with a warm murmur holds
my love underneath his solitary skin.
It lives on cool night soil.
The summer-aging sun keeps our time,
and he makes me dizzy.
I taste a carnival in him.
Accept the night moon, my love.
Together we dance through poet lotion seas.
Softly, yet louder than expected,
I giggle into his ear,
while peacefully lying with him,
bringing thrills and summer sky blossoms.
His heart is my new paradise.

An Incubus Invasion

My thoughts are stuck deep inside this idiot box of
structured glass,
I wish you were here.
It's 11am and I'm smokin' the herb again.
Then, paranoia begins to kick in:
"Hello? Are you in? Here in my room?"
There's blood on the ground and a pistola in its hand,
I'm hoping this is all just a phase.
I slip the magic medicine down with a shot of purple
Kool-Aid,
even though it seems to be a certain shade of green.
It's the only clean answer to this sick, sad, little
world I live in.
My smile lines begin to fade away.
Agoraphobia keeps me locked inside, deep inside
with the warmth of what I thought were your arms,
wrapped circles around me.
Now I realize, my mind's divided, I'm going
nowhere fast.
When it comes out from underneath the rays of gray
descending upon me while all of my talk shows are on mute-
I feel stuck, like I'm in a bed of quicksand.
Sinking beneath the line,
I try to dig myself out,
but I'm stuck in its trap.
While making itself more than just a warning,
it shreds what's left of the clothing on my new skin,
like a leech, sucking the innocence out of me.
Spirit or not, I want it to bathe in my snot and
realize that we blend like oil and water.
Finally, its lengths of admiration have ended,
and consequence begins.
Yet I notice,
I'm still locked deep inside,
stuck in this bed of quicksand,
unable to dig myself out,
going nowhere,
really fucking fast.