a little time passed
the hyacinth whispers low
peace wind in my hair
Mafdet
the night she is calm
cool crisp velvet blue her gown
from her throat dozens of dogs howl
at her suitor ambulance coming to town
i read a little bit of get well soons
magic words from far away
my heart is calmer too
Phoebe Ann chose me as throne
with big bright eyes and gentle soul
she purrs out loud God’s sheer perfection
Mafdet she saves me from those scorpions in my head
and orders me my sleep to steal
and worry not until tomorrow
heirs
in the corner Chelo sold sweet tamales for her girls to have a place in college in the corner Reynaldo told of the Christ who loved us so that he hung alone in the corner a man got stabbed over a wallet with no change and a picture of his only daughter in the corner three children sold carnations to bury their grandmother who died of blood cancer three months ago in the corner the Mariachi band played trumpeting hymns to their Virgin mom in the corner moon weeps just a little longer rain drops wet the ground in the corner life an ebb and flow of those who will inherit the earth
veinte adios ciaosito cariño
tonight i let go
joy at my feet
smile my
mouth red
lipstick
bon voyage
once the strike is stroked
i hope never to return
winter haiku
winter
pink
the
urban
cloud
eve
sky
cool
smoggy
air
and
taco
stands
bio
when i was a child
the God’s words confused me
as it was in the beginning
so shall it be in the end
Marley’s wailers also wailed
yet it still made no sense
when i was a girl
i studied about war in the local school textbook
but saw that both famous Abrahams modes of being sat naked on the dirty modern streets no bosom to hold tight to
no log cabin to sleep in
and Mary virgin mother became an entrepreneur in bottled holy wine and bloody linen sheets
just like any old biker momma i would come to meet
when i ran away just before the legal untender age
i devoted my life to Saint N Cassady
acid tests numbed out tongues
hugging my chest to my knees
i just one spec of ash
from the forest of the streetlamps
where we all burned
from creationists angry balls
middle road i step the curb
beginning never esoteric
ending at my mother’s vault
whispering sitting on the retainer wall
perhaps in this universe
i’ve lived it all simultaneously
take it like a man
sky weeping like widow
breeze cold dead man bones
the mirror of wilted flowers in my eye
piano and Adele my lips shut
breath held tight
her song did puncture
the pus filled soul in me
a mallet made of wings
swung across a street
it struck me in the heart
had that ambush ne’er happened
i would have never known
i was woman
for all the times
i had to take it like a man
to bow my head or look away
the lost glamorous stare
the sinking laugh
into the nothing
you said your mother would have liked me
but you never were in love
a convenience fuck i solely was
first tree in the palace
i believe it was last night or possibly the night before last
i don’t know it’s been about 53 hours off and on insomnia
watching news programs
no music
no music for about a week
feeling very tired
Christmas 2020 is upon us
i miss the world
i’m not sure what’s going on
i stepped outside
i saw the faces
covered muzzled no joy in their eyes
and i live among peoples who are very jubilant
my heart sank
last night or possibly the night before
the sickness came
cold sweat
tears
headache
heart jumping out of throat
fear irrational dark squeezing fear
i thought i had been dreaming about Queen Victoria and that first tree in the palace
i thought i felt the snow from Utah
i thought i smelled the stench from downtown
i thought i saw the lights from my Christmas tree go out
then i thought i saw Mary Magdalene touching my menorah
putting out its lights
when i was able to gather my soul and stuff it back down my throat
i sat at the edge of the bed
my cats trembling in the closet
looking at me 6 big bright eyes the Pleiades
i thought and i smiled
i went into the restroom washed my face with cold cold water
fingers shaking causing tiny little droplets to congregate around the bathroom sink surrounded by bottles of hygiene
there was no wind
there was no noise
unseasonable quiet
every other home that i saw through my window dark
no laughter of children
no blow up snowman
no nothing
not even a lonely bug or a spider
i imagined
i really should try to rest
i really should try to stop watching the news
i really should just stop and catch my breath
i was watching The History Channel the other day
they had a Bible soap opera and Jesus was very glamorous all of the Persians
wear eyeliner it looked very chic
then i thought about Bukowski’s Dinosauria, We poem
i think he was a prophet
that drunken old fool
i’m sending you hugs and kisses Buk
i think sometimes i think too much
but nothing worth a sigh
nothing worth anything at all
i will relax
i tell myself
i will relax
i will pour myself a tall glass of black coffee pour molasses very slowly
i shall stir
i shall not want cigarettes
i shall not desire a little drink
i shall not touch any needles
i’ve been so very good
i’ve been so very good
yes i remember now it was last night
it was full of terror
good thing about this dream
was that i could not hear myself scream
i wouldn’t want to cause any problems
i wouldn’t want to scare anyone
cold cold sweat
cold cold hands
cold cold brow
i smile today at the bouquets of sunflowers
i thought about Vincent van Gogh
how would he wear a face mask
the poor devil only had one ear
these are the thoughts
that pushed the other thoughts
but i don’t want to think about it
i walk through the grocery store aisles
looking for noodles
looking for broccoli and brussel sprouts
my favorite
i passed on the candy bars
no good i say
i pay and i get into my car
for a short but silent drive home
i climb up the stairs
very carefully this time
i open the door and then
i’m in a desert
i could feel the heat radiating on my
cold cold brow
i look around
i’m no longer wearing any clothes
instead i wear a coat of serpents
i can feel my arms flailing
hoping to cast them off
i try to wake up
i try to leave the desert
during my morning coffee
i recall what had happened
i look in my refrigerator
there are no brussel sprouts
there was no Coca-Cola zero
no broccolini
but i thought about going for a walk instead needless to say i didn’t make it out the door again today
instead i tied ribbons on my Christmas tree
i have to say i like Victoria’s style
eating my words [xiii]
three Thelmas
Thelma was from Panama
a dancer in her day
came to Hollywood with glimmer in her eyes
but ended up scrubbing walls
and partying it up for pay she said
Thelma was from Washington DC
went to fancy chemistry school
came to NYC to do her thing
and we all three Thelmas
black eyes in common have we all
three Thelmas from different places
in the world cold winter rain
has become the norm
beads of soaking wet misery upon our windows
stretch and shrink and rainbows emit
no colors through the smog
words less spoken 