PTHH <9> SERIES
Photography
a haiku
blood rush through my veins
restless bound to wandering
i the seed of Cain
America
i chose this card for you
you chose this life for me
America
we dance and laugh
we crawl and weep
America
i love you all the same
you’re not sure what to make of me
America
we are on going revolutions
we are pacific sisters
America
i watch upon a most psychotic rooftop
you direct the wind of our commotion
America
we in destiny
must not manifest infamy
America
soy una sinvergüenza
tan dulces sus ojos gotas tostadas de caramelo en platos de praliné
tan fina que es su nariz salpicada con escamas de ámbar
sus pensamientos están tan confusos que tiemblan como dientes de león en la madrugada
tan tierna su sonrisa torcida sintiendo que soy una sinvergüenza
so sweet his eyes toasted caramel drops on praline platters
so fine his nose peppered
with speckles of amber flake
so confused his thoughts he shivers like dandelions at dawn
so tender his crooked smile
sensing that i am a scoundrel
PTHH SERIES <8>
PTHH SERIES <7>
PTHH<6>
for Buk’s dad
the beach is really quiet today in spite of spilled ice cream and footprints left behind by a generation who still has not known the shores of old and the foxholes through which a reluctant liberty quietly arrives like a heart broken whore the breeze is desperate to make me smile and see me flicker my arms about my head like a puppet the breeze is not at all like the chiffon of the bride turned widow on that shore of ashen filled dreams collected by a letter delivered ten weekes later no these children with the ice cream and soccer balls and songs about a dance that is so disassociated from anything that i know will never understand these shores the way these shores have come to know me
for Buk’s dad
the beach is really quiet today in spite of spilled ice cream and footprints left behind by a generation who still has not known the shores of old and the foxholes through which a reluctant liberty quietly arrives like a heart broken whore the breeze is desperate to make me smile and see me flicker my arms about my head like a puppet the breeze is not at all like the chiffon of the bride turned widow on that shore of ashen filled dreams collected by a letter delivered ten weekes later no these children with the ice cream and soccer balls and songs about a dance that is so disassociated from anything that i know will never understand these shores the way these shores have come to know me
for Buk’s dad
the beach is really quiet today in spite of spilled ice cream and footprints left behind by a generation who still has not known the shores of old and the foxholes through which a reluctant liberty quietly arrives like a heart broken whore the breeze is desperate to make me smile and see me flicker my arms about my head like a puppet the breeze is not at all like the chiffon of the bride turned widow on that shore of ashen filled dreams collected by a letter delivered ten weekes later no these children with the ice cream and soccer balls and songs about a dance that is so disassociated from anything that i know will never understand these shores the way these shores have come to know me
words less spoken 