Trees

The trees they whisper
One tree was my father
And he was a redwood
He spoke about the time
Before there were people
When there were only
Other trees
They spoke quietly
In a fog
About the darkness
And the coolness
Of misty mornings
Where the ink
Splotches of clouds
Were all you knew
For miles In any direction
In this world
The sun was born
Everyday
Like a torrent of love
From a round fiery
Heart.

TIDE

TIDE

In the keeping of a demon

One must have a

Cage handy

That is big enough

For ones fears

And despair

In the keeping of a demon

One must have a bleeding

Edge of greatness

Etched

On ones thigh

Blood and scars

Are lollipops

And lipstick

Being a woman

Is to be nuts

According to the

Chronicles

And Chemicals

Of mankind

My body is left

In the prison

Of matter

 Between

Breaths

Of air

My flesh lies

Heavy

And  bleeds

When it is cut

The slaughterhouse

Would have been

Where they left you

Had you been an animal

But you are not

You are the God

Named Man

 Who believes

In himself

And progress

And his own

Fallow greatness 

The earth

Spins off axis

Rotates around the dimming

Sun

For a time

Civilization

Is cyclical …

The sound of all waters

Rise

Rise stone temple

Rise black high rise

Rise ocean

Rise tide 

There

There

In the Sphere

Where the spiders

Live in seaweed

My lungs

Can’t breathe

water

But my hands can

Paddle

The sphere

Changes shape

And shimmers

Over the ocean

Sea  monsters

Come out over the water

Tentacles

Waving

Frantically

While

Stars

Shudder

In the

Hearts

And minds

Of whales

The sea

Knows no \

One who can see

To it’s murky

Depths

In that space

I drown

And shudder

And believe

In the squid

The salmon

The monsters

Big and small

Blind fish

At the bottom

Of the ocean waves

In my submarine

I wander

From coral

Reef’

To sandy shore

Waiting on the

Rain

And the thunder

And the hurricane

When the sphere lands

On the water

It brings cold fire

And light

It’s a figment of my

Land-starved

Imagination

Like the monsters

That howl

Into murky

Depths

The giant squid

My friend

Like the whales

My friends

Like the eyeless fish

My Friends

Like the endless

Ocean

The lake of nightmares

Covering the land

With cool

Acidic

Blue

Water  

LSG 5/16/2014

This music is the sound
of my feet falling through the air,
landing on corrugated metal and running
up and down the angular spittle of
the spine

This wall is white \
black / purple and grey
this is rust colored

and the streets
are streaked with blankets

and performers

some woman
whirling white hula hoops

the cellist had already departed

The pavement is liquid
in places\
it's a dry day
there are
many people in the taqueria

to my great surprise they
give me whole black beans
with my shrimp plate


Sound is a funny thing

sometimes it breaks the walls
apart
other times
it makes the floor rattle
still others
it's a delicate kiss
on the forehead

Music is the sound of people
organizing waves into
lines and phrases
that mutter and shuffle
and breathe
like circular
it's circular
the soul of this building
and the breathing

The NeckFace
smiles down
on the cement floor
and The sound
it lights the walls\.     

the flowers

...So I'm going nowhere
and thinking of harvesting
dandelion greens
I went next door
saw ancient faces
smiling/frowning
flowers/crows
kind words
and dark
utterances
from small minded
old women
eyes
sunken
breasts sagging
hair an iridescent white
the man who talked to me most
over a plate of chicken and salad
was musical
there seems to be be
a global tribe of musical
people
that all know each other
by sight and smell
and attire
I told him of Luggage Store
and he told me of kindness
with his smile
and conversation

The room was full of
grandmothers
and grandfathers...
I took a seat feeling
like a character in a cartoon 

a child with an imaginary skateboard

I sat and ate my chicken
and talked about every-day things
It was a good time
I went home
walked the dog
talked to the dog
passed my neighbor
in his red shirt and hat
painting the fence
and chipping away with
his nail gun

The air is full of heat
heat that won't go away
heat oppressive heat

we remind each other
that the forecast says
"it will cool down in a couple of days"
I wonder if it really will..

I hold my tongue (in mixed company)
about global warming...
(don't want to be sanctimonious)

I sit in the heat and drink mint tea
out of a large lidless grey pot

My dog basks in the heat and curls
a black furry dot on the couch

I call everyone I know
to say hello

I watch documentaries
on my netfilx TV

My mother calls me
and we talk talk talk
till the phone heats up in my ear
and "I have to hang up"...

This day is a hot long slanted
yellow smear of sweat and flowers
and hours, and hours, and hours....  

straight

and my behavior must be maladaptive
erroneous and very unhealthy
I think as i take a breath of air
breathing is the most dangerous
behavior
it leads to living

I smoked for ten years
and enjoyed every carton
of bitter tobacco
but didn't find smoking
as dangerous (downright bad for me!)
as living

They will tell you you are
dysfunctional
co-dependant
autistic
they will label
you a criminal
for breathing

they will label you a patient
which is a crime
against nature
to need compassion
and medicine
is not a cigarette

or drink
or sex

it's a pill
or a straight jacket
buttoned-down
to the floor
to muzzle
the fire
in your eyes
and make
your breaths
stop

this is the work
that requires
labored breathing

we give birth
to maladapted

children

who breathe just fine

who sit and smile

who love

and smoke

and have sex

when you try
to tie the world
down

your fail. 

crows

what I if had this watering can
was all I had
I walk through the valley
of dreams
this desert place
where atomic bombs went off
(and still do) I see
lands/times
 of fascism and bad weather
that  go hand in hand
like hands of scarecrows
holding/hiding from
the crows
flatlands
that extend forever
and suns that fall
under the ground
if this was a tabletop
then underneath
would be where my heart is
life goes round and round
bomb after bomb after bomb
till there is nothng
left but neolithic
watering cans

If I ventured out
would they put me in a jail?
If I danced
or played the trumpet too loud
or asked the wrong person for a dime
would they make a big thing out of it
and beat me to death?
If I went to the wrong party
of slept on the wrong sidewalk
would they beat my brains in
with  a blunt object?

This country is a war
in and of itself

  If I eat greens
I think they will grow?
yes? and water will come
out of the faucet/yes?
and fish (the fish are dying)
but the water it still grows
from trees

What if my life doesn't matter?
we all ask ourselves over the carcasses
dinner/carcasses/
love is human awareness 
not upturned

WEB

The spidery web of water
sprayed like little moonstones
on my face

I walked through the water
and fire both

and saw the baptism beginning
there


The land is dying
the land is drying

The land is old

and fail and fair and fearless


I watched you shape my soul
with your hands
and became  silent
about what I knew


The seagulls watched us eat
on the pier

and devoured our leftovers


the earth feeds on human remains

and the remains of all life
she will outlive us

the land is going to die

and be reborn

differently

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

blue_jay/dove

Love is a blue tie
a blue jay
a blue bruise
a red bow
a small hand
a tall man
a orange cat
and a pink hat


in the big chair
by the small girl
the white dog
lay still
the rain fell

and it warmed
the stove
while the young girl
transformed
into a dove

purple ink blotches
fell
down
on white paper

the cat scratched
and breathed

the little girl
faded into adulthood\
and her mother flew by
a small bird
in a purple vest   

Crayfish

Life begins with a spark of light
and then advances through mush
towards the infinite light
that would be the sparks home

Children have curiosity
and Honesty
in their scraped knees and
blue pants and wild windy hair \

They play in the island
on the road to the Post Office
and I see them
hanging off the bright orange
plastic slides and monkey bars

I wish to be their age
have a new father and mother
new siblings a new life
extending out of endless
bright flashes

Pluses of being

It would be better to live again
be a little girl (or could I even be a boy?)
all over again...
life would extend itself
\outward from another pulse

My heart beats and my blood
sinks
and I feel like a stone
and I trudge to the post office and back

It is a hot day and the sun
is like one burning spark
setting little lights in motion

 passing the park on my way back
I remember my father in the canoe
on the lake
paddling
and the crayfish under the water
so insect-like and odd/
 /tiny little lobsters/
and I feel the cold
wind
on the hot day
and feel grateful/ 

you v.s. me

When I think of you
over there
far away in the snow
I saw on my old TV
with rabbit ears
and I had a rabbits foot
for a key chain
I bought it at the toy store
and you were
grinning
always grinning
always you won the
lottery
on the dark side of
the moon where
I lived for a few years
and then drowned in
despair
your mind is far from my mind
who am I if not you?
when you are running though the
jungle desperate and sweat
fell off your face
and they were pursuing
us/who are THEY?
what is a  me?
I played drums
in your mind and
staggered up the steps
with my bass drum
in hands
and I swallowed a coke
and you did too
and WE/ who are WE?
chatted and spoke in an archaic
language to each other
but it's YOU we talked about...