violet sky soft feather wind
on shore at the foot of the valley
cactus tufts where birds will nest
upon the arrival of the spring
i like the granules of sand
monochromatic browns and blacks
the tiny pebbles silent lay
in them frozen codes of time
and how i got to be here
in a universe so universal
bowing my head
mantra in brain
sacred sounds surround the plains
my thoughts interrupted
as a dusty Slurpee cup blows by
life you have this annoying way of walking by as i’m trying to see a point of view prescribed by a cold and sterile man
take today for instance i’m just whistling by on my way to the corners pungent with wet filth and frothy with human madness
every prophet will eventually go back to her house yet i am neither saint nor prophet but just a sinner looking for faith
here in front of me stands the place where we yes you my soul conscience and mind dwindled childhood away waiting for the unknown without fear bloated with arrogance
get lost
Love
away with you
i’ve packed your bags
your cab is called
get the fuck out of my way
let me place
my bourbon on this table
and no i don’t use your coasters
i’m done with you
i refuse to wait
no more a fool
my time is out
for years and years
and seven fold
i crawled on knees
i soiled my soul
for you to hold me
i yearned for you
i cried for you
i died for you
so many many times
and in the darkest times
when i thought you cared
you tricked me
with a warm hand
a kind lie
or a fake kiss
i ran away
and groveled
and that one time
a torrid past
with three or four
i shared your bed
thinking i was special
but now i’m grown
and have found
a better lover
he’s cold and dull
and never calls
but never yells
or hits or tells
me how imperfect i am
i adore him
the only loyal one
Solitude
hey it rains
at 2 a.m.
and for some
reason i think
about you love
what are you
you are what
i feel you
to be in that dark corner
hiding behind dust bunnies
from when he last opened the door
and left me
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
when i was a teen girl
i had a teen boy lover
he was broken like James Dean
and like Brando a real bad ass mutherfucker
he kissed with a platinum tongue
as we walked along the Venice sand
he’d get into fights
all bloody and bruised
but we still caught the moonlight
sucking on the booze
we’d fuck until we couldn’t walk
not because of sex or anything
but because of all the glue we huffed
those were wild times
in the eyes of other people
to a punk skater kid
of broken inner spirit
the life style was his fort
me i was just a wanna be
looking for a Trojan Horse
to leave this solar system far behind
by sixteen i’d been dead so many times
and had gotten taken advantage of by force
all because of it
Blaine with the dirty blonde mohawk
my only refuge that boy was
we swore our love
with Sharpie marker anarchy tattoos
and shared pizza crusts
from the dumpsters down on Zephyr
at night we’d find some Gypsy camp
and howl unto the face of angels
howling at the moon just seemed so trite
but when we’d look in each other’s eyes
there were no stars in them
like with the Montagues’ and Capulets’
just an existential escape past our sullied souls
knowing that we had no plan
just living for the day
no flowers in my hair
no money for the Goddamned fare
from desperation blvd. to hole ave.
just me and Blaine alone together
simultaneous fear and madness punching in the air
we lived like Cohen and the Beats
the Velvets and Andy and Billy Name
we talked about fascism and Ollie and the gang
La Revolucion y El Che
we talked about other times
his aunt Myrtle’s minced meat pie
Constantinople and even Hemingway
he read about the Bolsheviks
while i adored Bukowski
he slept in the LA Central Library
on my bony dirty lap
one of the most beautiful
and sacred memories of my life
was my chipped fingernail polish
fingers picking out two tiny
purple flower petals
from his gentle baby hair crown
dear Reina Señora de Los Ángeles
thank you for the myriad places
that sprang forth from your womb
beautiful whore open to all
from east north west south
thank you for your alleys overgrown with trash
and dirty smoky bars that only take cold cash
thank you for the pruned faced
multinational hookers
who tuck until they’re blue
and thanks for Hillel’s guitar
and X and punk rock hungry bands
i love to look at my reflection
in the puddles of the damned
and thank you for letting me slip away
from La Chata and La Sad Girl at Lil Chuy’s wake
thank you for the tacos sushi and McRib
colonics pilates and knock off designer shoes
and the beggar at every freeway exit
who cleans my windshields with his shame
thank you for the Salvadoran Iranian and Korean
who managed to call the fire men
to save the homeless Viet Nam veteran
while the GOP and DNC
squabble over shit
my Queen misguided angels by your feet
thank you for my complexity
for surviving my last fix
i appreciate you looking over me
thank you for the high end malls
fake nails lip fillers fat cell freezers
and my beloved 99 cent stores
the beaches and the valleys
the mountains and the roads
and for all the hardened gutters
you softened for me to sleep in
the soul we are your people
good bad papered or unwrapped
we are all your seeking children
but i’m your only brat
at moon’s end
i find myself
trying to stitch
back together
what i so vehemently
spent so many years
tearing apart
the light is subtle
too feeble for me to thread
needles of apology
remorse or redemption
yet i continue on
finger tips pale
pricked by bitter reminder
of gaping tears
i tore into the fabric
of decency and self-dignity
with offerings of woolen prayers
i attempt to mend and patch
a heart sullen with snags and rips
to no avail
on most any day
then every so often
the rays of light
knit me a magnifying glass
and in subtle ways
i toil at weaving
a better human fabric
for myself
of which i make offerings
of tzitzit embroidered with the shame
of tails in between my walking legs
with seams of hope
that mercy will be granted
at the ending of my new day
twilight is a little jagged
rays of Sun’s arms
tremble as Earth opens his
blue doors to her
the marriage bed set
and i’m growing my wings
to fly in the mocha of the night
he beckons my common senses
and i dive into a certain
constructed abyss
my back it labors
as the vestiges
of alabaster hued flight
carries my sins away
then just as quickly
as the virgin blossoms
my wings disappear
into the waking Sun
her face beaming with hope
and as night and i
we go our different ways
my back rested
city aflame
my life clean slated
soul light as a feather
i remember that garage
atop of the Echo Park hill
pretty in spring
bikes built to thrill
now my hands empty
mind full of memories
that fueled my entire life
the end nears by
we come close now to the station
we could never use words
only cryptic sensations
what sets me apart from the Godly
she asks
i can’t forgive what’s been done
i explain
all that is left
are two daughters
and a conjoint broken heart
