the hospitals are the same all over i now believe except for the revolving doors everywhere and the river beautiful pigeons and other birds look like they were spit shined and then the river crossed on planks made of steal with tug boat Cadillacs full of salty earth the buildings tall old bones new skin i grin at the sun rays coming at me hard but the old grandfather wind swoops me from the light and in three hours it gets dark and i walk around the park and back to the clinical round of someone who knows nothing of anything beyond the cereal box patients waiting all the time looking tired worn out sucked down pulled up by the soul and sick of heart like the ladies looking out from the Amsterdam house mine eyes search for invisibility and the wolves follow me with teeth and i a fox in sheep’s skin look the other way i don’t want idolatry tonight the French baguette is hard and stale but i get it anyway i want to feel other than myself the urges come like thunder but then all of a sudden it dawns on me that i’m in Illinois and that Abe was a member of the Whig Party tears are salty anywhere we go and why in the fuck isn’t Pluto a planet
Author: mbrazfieldm
sunrise prayer while whistlin’ to Shonen Knife
Lord it’s me
Grady the Rh- monkey
tuesday morning
Chicago scene
eyes are watering
but it’s not the wind
i haven’t talked to You
like i think i should
just want to thank you
again and again
life flashing
on the right side of my brain
the train car rails
are really cool
if i had a stray thought
it’s all because
of the architectural allure
but i’m mouthin’ too much
arigato for all you’ve taken from me
arigato for all you’ve given me
arigato for all those whom i’ve battled
and for those who have kicked my ass
for all the ones i’ve hurt
and the things i’ve thrown away
thank you for the violence
and especially when peace runs through me
thank you for the fight
thank you for the lessons
thank you for this river
and the beggar by the bay
for the nature
and the phantoms in my bed
and thank you for looking down on me
when my demons ring my bell
at M. Wong’s
pink vapor rises
my feet grind to the wild song
we howl hard at love
dude’s stall politics
a girl’s gotta
I hadn’t been to the Cecil for about four months. I was going solo-er than usual. I had a habit and I needed to hide it, but at the Cecil, that meant hanging with the big children; my habit had to hide me. That took some energy, but I was chalked up to not only falling through the cracks, but literally jumping off the deepest canyon; voluntarily and with pleasure.
Tiny tattoos started bleeding through my skin and sex hated me. My mind was random, my family really random, but as I got older, I figured God’s grace ushered me through.
Early on a Friday morning just before 2 p.m., I decided to go see if spare cock Amos was still living at the Cecil. I was supposed to be at college prep but it wasn’t interesting. Sitting anywhere for longer than 8.9 seconds was excruciating and my limbs just needed to move.
The bust stop bench in front of the hotel had been vandalized and some Mexican guys in orange vests were loading the pretzelled metal unto a Metro Services pick-up. One of the guys, a squared faced short legged man with spikey salt and pepper hair puckered his lips at me a few times, like when a dog really needed to take a shit. I looked down, noticed a lady bug on the left cuff of my sleeve and cupped it in my right hand.
She was deep brick red with tiny black spots. Slowly the hand uncupped. The chipped black nail polish on my hand mimicked her spots. I too puckered my lips, blew a kiss and Holly flew away. I named things and stuff.
The hotel lobby was worn down, the palm trees dried out and their pots ashy and clay like. The coupons dissected and plucked from the Times were neatly stacked on the concierge’s desk. I sat across an olive toned man who wore a sports jacket and Laker color biker shorts. I could see that his toes were mostly calcified with nail fungus. He asked my name as he offered his, Steponas. Francine, I reciprocated starring at his foam green flip flops.
Looking around Steponas scooted to the edge of his couch. His ass must have been sweaty on account of the screeching sound he made when scooting. I sat back deeper into my couch crossed my twig legs and swung my combat boot left to right. Steponas retrieved.
My attention got hijacked by a loud drag queen coming down the stairs, but she wasn’t spare cock. She was just really pissed off. Apparently she contracted crabs and had no qualms about sharing it with the few meat bags staring at her in the lobby.
My eyebrowless Puerto Rican cutie with flaming red hair and flat ass stormed out cussing in Spanish now. I followed her as she bee lined north toward Broadway. I wondered if she’d be going to La India to share her tales of woe with the lovingly self-nick named “puta boys.”
my way…
i hadn’t been to the Cecil for about four months i was going solo-er than usual i had a habit and i needed to hide it but at the Cecil that meant hanging with the big children my habit had to hide me that took some energy but i was chalked up to not only falling through the cracks but literally jumping off the deepest canyon voluntarily and with pleasure
tiny tattoos started bleeding through my skin and sex hated me my mind was random my family really random but as i got older i figured God’s grace ushered me through
early on a friday morning just before 2 pm i decided to go see if spare cock Amos was still living at the Cecil i was supposed to be at college prep but it wasn’t interesting sitting anywhere for longer than 8.9 seconds was excruciating and my limbs just needed to move
the bust stop bench in front of the hotel had been vandalized and some Mexican guys in orange vests were loading the pretzelled metal unto a Metro Services pick-up one of the guys a squared faced short legged man with spikey salt and pepper hair puckered his lips at me a few times like when a dog really needed to take a shit i looked down noticed a lady bug on the left cuff of my sleeve and cupped it in my right hand
she was deep brick red with tiny black spots slowly the hand uncupped the chipped black nail polish on my hand mimicked her spots i too puckered my lips blew a kiss and Holly flew away named things and stuff
the hotel lobby was worn down the palm trees dried out and their pots ashy and clay like the coupons dissected and plucked from the Times were neatly stacked on the concierge’s desk i sat across an olive toned man who wore a sports jacket and Laker color biker shorts i could see that his toes were mostly calcified with nail fungus he asked my name as he offered his Steponas Francine i reciprocated starring at his foam green flip flops
looking around Steponas scooted to the edge of his couch his ass must have been sweaty on account of the screeching sound he made when scooting i sat back deeper into my couch crossed my twig legs and swung my combat boot left to right Steponas retrieved
my attention got hijacked by a loud drag queen coming down the stairs but she wasn’t Spare Cock she was just really pissed off apparently she contracted crabs and had no qualms about sharing it with the few meat bags staring at her in the lobby
my eyebrowless Puerto Rican cutie with flaming red hair and flat ass stormed out cussing in Spanish now i followed her as she bee lined north toward Broadway i wondered if she’d be going to La India to share her tales of woe with the lovingly self-nick named puta boys
early bird special
when i die i’m curious how my skull will look will i have all of my teeth my grave robbers won’t find gold will my nose holes be like a heart i wonder when i steam Botan i like to eat it hot with rice vinegar and a little toasted sesame seed oil how do you take yours love my toe nails well yeah they are a little chipped i guess i’ll get around to them soon this week lazy really no not true i just don’t think my toes are that important do you like my drawings i like the term avant gard between you and me that means i don’t have a rats ass worth of talent but if i pretend it’s a Polaroid of my soul with a few foreign words painted on the rich matron will buy it they love missed spelled words too makes them complete knowing they saved a wretch like me my hair yeah what’s wrong with it oh a nest really i ran my fingers through it when i washed it in the morning but do you think that they will put 10 pounds of mustard seeds in my skull or will the vandals toss it round my chop sticks feel crooked i better stop putting them in the dishwasher i suppose my tits yeah didn’t you hear about Newton’s law of gravity dude what is this by the way how’s your prostate been i’m a lady so i won’t speak of the southern-most half of your equator
homenaje moribundo
From my bleeding heart
Rain the cries of a bottomless love
In ardor and pain and sweetness from the guava fruits
Destined to wither and die on your ground
Angel of cruel deliciousness
Knocking on the broken door of my memory
As I agonize in the thought of your becoming eyes
Hell does circle me every day and brighter at night
Lady of the circulating endless ecstasy
Only you can allow me to die in peace
estimada novia de colores
en las garras de la pasión
mírame en los ojos
un color come el mío
te juro no los vas a ver
eres el suspiro de la vida
que nace y muere como la Coatlicue
quiero ser libre en tu prisión
y nunca escapar dulce peregrina señora del altar
de las cosas más sagradas en su naturaleza perversa
píntame con tu arco iris
columnas de nuestros padres
las madres ya no van
y siguen su camino
quiero que hagamos amor
en Saturno
y con uno de sus anillos
hacerte mi esposa
social worker
in the dawn
when bodies intercross
that stage of simultaneous
exhaust and regeneration
my mind becomes of another plane
where the primitive fears
gargle up before i can close my third eye
my getting beat or a fork in the road without its tines
i wake for a few millennial seconds
then heavy weariness weighs me down again
smelling Jewish rye bread toasting
i’m at the house on Rodney street
wearing my mother’s clothes
and my lips sewn shut
phone alarm buzzes on
and the cats start to call me mama
slowly i rise
unconsciously tap my lips
while dragging my feet
to the bathroom mirror
another day in hell
and all i got is a cup of ice chips
no egos need apply
tranquil 3:48 p.m. cemetery
exposed roots and i lay my head
on them inhaling the stink of rot
coming from the moisture
entwined in their wood
like cells and chromosomes
the lawn lush and cool
flower beds the brightest
colors in nature’s pupils
jeweled hovering insects
with class and personality
perhaps we are in the place
where not only the dead
come to rest
below the soil
a natural process
holy if you will
is taking place
God’s created flesh
returns to its forewarned state
i can’t imagine it would
appeal to me if i saw it
i then wonder would God’s
face appeal to me too
i focus back on the scents
around me
green aquatic a fowl or six
fried chicken knock off perfumes
car exhaust a hookah oxtail stew
and i think again
behind the pedi-cured beauty
underneath my resting fleshy bones
resides the biological truth
no egos need apply
for Chabela’s grave stone
the old path to the
gray green river holding gold
steps of ghosts fade off
mercantile store stands
empty and devoid of blood
by the railroad’s end
youthful eyes smiling
bright pigtails full of petals
soul in pretty dress
