Author: mbrazfieldm

trilobite, us redux

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hey its me any little girl here in the land of Califa
standing here
watching pixelated faces lecture me
Mrs. K spits
as the psyche creaks
politicos burrow into the livers
the decorated soldier begs in vain
dog puke dog and starves to death
and any one rich man holds the Sun hostage

we’ve arrived as widowed child wives old at 17
mutated as this
guilted to breathe it in
carefully engineered rhetorical prison
abandoned lots with broken earth
and wifi chambers force my heaving love to transfer through a tiny yellow ball
long gone by the days of my defense of common sense our bloods leak out of the pipelines

cut from this a thorny dress for me to wear when i cross the fields of certain death
mouth cannot afford to feed so we label it starvation chic Spring collection 2022
from a city where His houses are closed but the fuck joints spread eagle open
and instead of elevating our children to a sacred garden
your success plan exclusively gives us their early termination option involuntarily of course

beat into this
bleeding and punching at it
punching at it
punching at it for this
self sacrificing to it
choking like it
mutated
berated
humiliated
because of greed
used by it
raped and sodomized by it
sold down the sewer by it
indentured to it
turned stupid through it
sterilized  by it

the soul cauterized
hands plucked off
the tongue
the dust
the micro wave
broken fists bow to the 5G gods and all of the ROC’s men
my rivers polluted
my children can’t swim

somnambulant diagnosis reach for the
SSRI’s
SNRI’s
MAOI’s
IOU’s
IUD’s

we’ve voted into this desperate resignation but somewhere in those pigeon holes i am alive
but we’ll pay into the bottomless recession
that put together with our farthest most ancestors brought back from heaven can’t help us from debt
commandments will be outlawed for AI commanders
turn in thy neighbor will be a passport to breathe one more 8 hour pain filled day
charity will be uselessly lewd
schooling will be punished
the Statue of Liberty shall pawn her torch for three dollars
God particles will slice time wide open
the horned beasts will be the priests
because hell hath no fury like the secretary of state scorned

the new world order hid away Galileo’s brain under the Sepulveda Pass
law will pass
nature will pass
we will pass
men on fire will eat men of eternal flames
those who are spared will be consumed by the madness of the NYSE silent bell who tolls for the all known
space stations will be the new sub stop
packed lemmings with visible dog tags
shooting off operation warp speed go go go to build castles in the clouds for them if there’s a future Florida

lord Silly Con forbids your show of common grace Queen Squad will soon order you off with my head simply because she can but she’s not a she because thee real She is kindness

as they stare

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they treat me any kind of way
thirteen pounds of furry muscle
they demand as they stare at me
guilt me with otherworldly cuteness
i beg and i plead my very soul to keep
for a headbutt or a tail hug
to no avail
i rush into the kitchen room
they like sentries cold in their eyes of jewel
manipulate me to open their favorite chow
and place hers on the dinning table
he satisfied to be served on the counter tops

Bean and Phoebe 2022

Vietnamese grandpas

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as a child by the river i’d sit
watching birds and tin cans
faded reds with silver coca cola brand
the Vietnamese grandpas were fishing

for hours studying the leaves
grownups  brawling and guzzling their beer
speaking of politics and the cost of living
the Vietnamese grandpas were fishing

and my innocence of mind would cause a wonder
did the birds have veins like my tree leaves had tucked away between the feathers on their wings
the Vietnamese grandpas were fishing

and when the time came to leave my clan i headed to a school
and i studied nature in a most unnatural of states
when i began to see it all the universe like the light of day
the leaves the birds the skies stars and twigs
they all had veins like the ones i saw
as i received smiling foreign words pats on head and soda cans
down by that river bed
from the Vietnamese grandpas who were fishing

flipping BMW drivers

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where did that young girl go with wild wild hair to the air wind Master goddess
i used to see her in her shredded dirty jeans skateboard and Vespa rider with a Red Hot Chili Peppers sticker on it
flipping BMW drivers transporting hair metal idols up that degenerate Sunset boulevard
she went to hand out scraps of food and sterile needles to those trespassers of the high falutin hills of Hollywood
laughing crying walking up the trails to the magically acoustic historical Bowl in the hopes of enticing young runaways to come and stay at the charity homes
touched forever by JMBs dinosaurs with lines roller skating on the canvas walls
to meet the hero in her mind and not to know if he sunk or rose after getting called to judgment

yours is

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yours a cool blue glance that burns cold in the midst of my heart

yours a hot clutch tight around my fevered mind

yours the sound of angry thunder sticking at the door of my vulnerability

yours a distance beyond comprehensibility that weighs on my caving chest like 19 billion suns

yours a bitterness spilled across a bleeding tongue

“depression demon” mbrazfieldm (c) 2022

the road dogs

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she sits there looking dazed pecking at her phone with her pink sea shell fingers

“they call me tre on account i only got three toes” she said in a proud laughter

she feels her way around the rim of her fancy thrift store jeans bought four years ago for ten bucks and donated by well bred college coeds from ANY THREE LETTER U

“i’m waiting for my road dog to help me do my laundry she’s the only one i trust we used to be drinking buddies back in the day tell me if my shoe stinks.” she stretches her tan prosthetic type shoe at my face i smelled nothing

with a distance in her blind brown eyes she asks if the blinds are open because the lights bother her she cusps an old Kleenex under her nose its allergy season

“can you hand me my eye drops they’re on the dinner table next to my dad’s diabetes pills did i tell you that he lost all of his toes and he might lose his left leg? we’ll know tomorrow.”

her head tilted down as if hoping her sad thoughts will seep out through tears of frustration as her father who named her after her own birth country was now struck down and she could no longer be daddy’s road dog either

sonnet for the trafficked

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streets wet with ocean dew by the train stop

girls with glittering mouths dance in the eyes

men who lost their wages to sinful lust

we smoke with lights out every other block

in the ally they waste covered with flies

bended knees to a system that’s not just

our dreams fast escape through broken windows

on some faces a smile is just a lie

through loss of self remember not to trust

we long for those we love trapped in shadows

filthy shame to cause our blood to rust

the soul cauterized from love so we die

walk the streets with spirits that now are crushed

the warmth of hearts these mean streets have frozen

at night our cries hush