Andie Carpenter

Andie Carpenter lives in Colorado and Maryland. She's appeared in numerous

little magazines and read in The Nuyorican Poets Cafe, St. Mark's Poetry

Project, the Mercury Cafe in Denver and Dave's Coffeehouse in Dallas.

She can be reached at andiekc@iname.com.

Read This To The Reporters When They Ask Why I Went Mad

A pizza delivery boy gives me his number before I slam the door

I think about calling

A junkie passes out in my doorway blocking the entrance

I think she looks serene

A man in a suit on the street says he can save me

I'm doubting that more and more

My dog can not be housebroken

I no longer care

I start obsessing about my hands, bite my nails, and let them get dry

It's been three hours since I touched another person

Two women dance together in a drunken stupor on the stairs

I am transfixed

A man shouts HEY SWEET BABY on the street

I am somehow flattered

There is a violent stabbing at a local pool hall

I stop to watch

My butt sticks to the subway seat forming a sweaty wet spot

I am afraid to get up so I miss my stop

I start obsessing about my hands and paint my nails but no one notices

It's been three days since I touched another person

A friend that's a hooker offers advice about men in her apartment

I thank her and trust her but won't drink from the same bottle

I think of an old boyfriend that I desperately wanted to be in love with

I can never remember his name

My mother calls every Sunday worried about me

I tell her I just work a lot

Every morning I stare at the people on the subway

I can't stop wondering who they have sex with

I start obsessing about my hands, pick at my cuticles and wear gloves all the

time

It's been three weeks since I touched another person

Every night I eat the same thing in the same booth in the same diner

I can't believe the waiter never called me

I sit and type until my fingers are stiff and raw

Then I wonder where all my cigarettes went

I meet a famous writer on the street he ignores me but

I tell people I met him anyway

I read a book about a serial killer and come away afraid

I found it really interesting

I start obsessing about my hands and spend twenty-seven dollars on moisturizer

It's been three months since I touched another person

A friend I have known for years says he is in love with me

I feel like I have accomplished something

I meet a popular poet in a diner and he smells like egg salad

I wonder if I could seduce him

I quit sleeping and stop eating and smoke all the time

My skin looks better than ever

Andie Carpenter