we’ve always been
Photography
how much more time
cylinders
i
am a
spec inside
fallopian
tubes tied in silence
wandering in sepsis
with no nebula to birth
me in and mold me to be free
wicked cold frozen fire line my
eyes to shut down at dawn’s reverse rising
you my twin enigma engine super
star in brilliant tigress opus
the moon intends to strike upon
weak hands that try to hide her
floating spec dance away
into dead eyed shore
narrow pathway
stray comet
bone star
still
Bell and Howell
the sun slides down
lays her golden head
on Dodger mountain
i look around the apartment
notice that i don’t have much
just a few books
electronic essentials
some cooking utensils
work files and water color trays
an old nonoperational
Bell and Howell
and i wonder
was it ever
my intention
to live like an old
widowed bitter sailor or
to be a neat little wife
to have douching schedules
and cook kosher Shabbat dinners
and worship at the west side Temple
roll with the punches like ladies do
claw at my chest with dignity
and gasp at the lukewarm horror
that Stanley cheated on Sherryl
while my praised dentist husband
works her very late most nights
or was it ever my intention
to be rich and famous
with lovers of all intersections
and gleefully snort exuberant amounts of blow
while getting handcuffed away to the station
wearing my sexy Nirvana ripped collar t shirt
now stuffed away in my mid week LA night
freckled with hoarse tooting car horns
and blinking half dead street lights
i breathe deeply and smile
wondering what my intentions
will be when i grow up
and painfully emancipate from this
spiritually bereft confusing mess
that squeezes me tight
as she coyly stands
quietly in front of
that old thrift store
Bell and Howell
a.d. Friday 12.27 (b)
a.d. friday 12.27
love letter to Allen
hi
Allen
it’s me the
kid who read you
too early in her life and yelped before
the howl can’t you see i really love you
i’m a boy in
a body
of a
girl
me
i had
a mother
too she was gone
but until now i can’t write her poems
easing her death for me lost in the fog
can i be a
blue sailor
with you
and
sweep
across
this world to
hear the voices
louder in our heads and words seeping through
the Hebrew ghosts of our mothers’ tears for
a life torn to
tiny bits
too small
to
pick
up and
put back on
the shelf of show
Allen did we get old in babyhood
is that why passion runs lukewarm tempests
i’m fading in
my only
land
where
copper
painted god
children played with
the sun and all her golden sisters too
before the bearded strangers came with the
ships and fools to
drown in pools
of their
own
made
sorrow
tonight i
want to drink to
you the man i love and sip from your mind
the dirty thoughts the ones with guys and all
that comes with them
if i can
only be
a
mere
armpit
hair of yours
and see what you
have seen and hear the howling of the fears
that haunt all men to their torment in life
so poorly lived
and here i
am for
you
recusants you and i
night drive slow speed
body tired windows bleed
city light a million times
soul sucker dynamite
blare the sin out from below
steel cold brick you sunk me
my fingers crooked now
with the countdown of this town
but don’t underestimate
the heart mine least of all
look me in the silence of that eye
i dare you to deny
that after you’ve torn
us both down
spit on our ancient right
that a tree of force will not emerge
from where my human blood’s been shed
from where my love everlasting powerful
and pure will for all of time
triumph over you
and our perversions
an LA woman
im no different
i too bleed
i too drink
i too breath
i too think
i too speak
i can wear
a suit and
shiny diamond rings
i can fuck
a woman or
a man if
i want when
i want there
is plenty to
go around in
this town i
can steal beg
borrow die live
catch a disease
have a cock
sewn on or
my pussy stitched
shut i can
love and hate
worship and sin
i get tickets
and big debt
i can write
and wait tables
sell the story
make you cry
or laugh depending
on how i
feel about it
i too can
show passion for
the things that
make society gag
i can figure
things out for
myself and buy
a house and
marry three men
i can walk
the streets alone
very late at
night and see
the children writhing
engulfed in their
pain euphoric to
the all great
equalizer who comes
when she wants
only and claims
those who have
had no time
i can watch
sit back relax
or run scared
out of my
head from the
boogey man or
woman you can
be just as
oppressive baby don’t
tell me no
look in my
eyes my queen
i give you
a description of
your cloudy soul
i can fight
but there are
some things that
i will die
for and won’t
think twice about
it my freedom
my voice and
right to be
me not a
victim or a
trophy i refuse
to be shackled
by diagnosis political
label or join
the sorority of
hypocrisy and vanity
yes i am
a woman free
now i understand
when i got
called rock headed
it served to
break that glass
ceiling and shoot
me to the
infinate frontier of
my own agency
my own democracy
i follow my
drum and i
will share all
with my sisters
but i will
never apologize for
who i am
how i am
what i am
why i love
when i go
where i stand
in this anthem
i proclaim equality
dude’s stall politics
words less spoken 