i have no desire to stop and smell flowers or tell my friend about the aroma of bread in the morning breeze i have earned the right to just wander off in these unbelievable streets barefoot to squander the last of my life i have no interest in looking for the art in my face or the strength of my wrists i have a need to talk to myself about the world that scorns me and finally be at peace to embrace the underground in solitude
we great grand children
acorns plucked from branches
strewn across the roads
on a whim of damnation herself
still in the red we toil
rot away on bended knee
collecting rejection in reusable bags
we cry not for pain anymore
sedated we sit and lay down
to partake in the ruthlessness of abandonment
running from time outside
chased by ruin and stain
deep a vault secrets
tell of themselves
two lights we are
far apart unexplained
Horus sees his eyes
in our face looking
inward by the outward pull
the wax puddle
is cold my thoughts shut
down for the night
i sigh chest tight
radio silent stars
not in the sky
gray clouds instead
look up across ceiling
cobwebs caught in memory
fluttering in preparation
for dreams
Cover designed by Tara Caribou It is the official release day! I’m honored and grateful that my friend, Candice Louisa Daquin, “gently” nudged me to do this. Additionally, I am indebted to Candice for believing in me and for her diligent work in editing. Thank you, Candice. You are one of the most giving people […]
It is the official release day!
oceans here underneath these alleyways so full of germs
Rollins bullies words of rage from throat to pavement
oceans of sounds around the block
in protest negotiations but more resounding the beating of her poisoned heart
oceans of trash needles and shit half eaten Whoppers for the pigeons to pick
and we shells buried in this sea of pretentious misery
her phone his jokes her looks his power
gun shells soul shells hard shells
city hall the giant clam no pearl
no grace no center
oceans we wade floating with no direction
SHAME ON THE LA CITY COUNCIL THREE YOU DO NOT REPRESENT ME
timeless was the crescent of your smile parted lips a sliver of teeth that when gnashed together meant a bite of delight on my neck
as those years have dwindled down the wood in my heart strips away to the core tenderness i’ve always held
she spills her thoughts unto a loose leaf notebook page with an old blue Bic ink pen
her kitchen table strewn with paper scraps cheap chocolates and charity meals from St. Vincent’s
on her bed plastic liners rolling papers and blue aluminum bags tufts of tobacco on her sheet an old exaggerated Brave on the label
arms scarred by a childhood rash disease that taught her plenty about loneliness
now she the matriarch of two generations birthed from her
she wanders down the halls watching the world through an orphaned telescope
i like watching her turn her room apart
to show me husband’s funerary ashes
and dead baby one shot down before his prime
is the conversation everyday
then my turn to drive away
to punch on keys a progress report
about the life of another woman
whose had to pay a staggering price for wanting happiness
i store treasure taken from my eyes
in rooms to multiply
linger these treasures do
ensconced in my mind
at night when no one cares
to listen to my views
i pull a diamond or two
from there in the back
brilliance tucked away in angles
dead flower smell wafting in the creaks
gingerly i polish them with words
they come alive
and leave me cold
tomorrow i’ll look around some more
before my eyes no longer open
no here no there
no peace no air
just You watching me
revolting soul both knees
weak frail not knowing
but understanding too well
madness only You see
me gone from clay
breath taken given away
slave to this world
pollution no control ugliness
takes its righteous toll
energy in the black
energy in the white
dark horse pale horse
hurry to my jail
rush me through valleys
carry me on the
trails leading to something
unimaginable star nova supreme
last night heard screams
tis was i son
for MP find peace, brother
words less spoken 