the dream menu comes it’s passed around to random strangers as we zig zag through the 2nd street tunnel lined with ceramic tile once virgin white now black as desert sky my favorite graffiti walls cryptic messages like seven bones in my life i’ve only broken 8 we are used to this air nose hairs full of stuff a little boy picks at his scabs and momma holds his cup the number 81 to Eagle Rock plaza goes but we’re not ready for the home bound road instead i cruise ball heel toe over to Grand Central and order a cheese pupusa that i don’t eat and don’t know why i bought from the corner of the eye i see the three delicious ones with mint julep eye lashes calling each other a dirty trollop after a few search engine insults trollop Sassy Ass #1 goes to the ladies washroom to turn back the hands of time on her five o’clock shadow she says Adam’s apple gliding up and down i lose interest quickly as i smell a puff of clove and delay the inevitable loneliness of thought by joining the awe and admiration of booth A23 and their giant Jack fruit bowl a delicacy for the valiant but not for me today and i begin to miss Walt Whitman even though he’s never met me and Lash Larue movies on Sunday afternoon when life was very simple like begonias in the sun with the savory lure of schnitzel and Ute Lemper singing songs
ojo de venado
for the most part
this Spring has been bland
the honeysuckle doesn’t woo me
the curiosity has dried from my heart i don’t read how i used to
Bad Brains or the good Reverend Horton Heat don’t sound to me like they used to way back when
there is an apostate strand of DNA to the right of my interior
the witching hour sticks at me like when Ladd Jr soccer kicked a wasps nest
i’m weak and can’t believe anymore my demons know they’re close to laughing last
my molars are ground down tear ducts parched i don’t have mercy for me
God i can’t feel You next to me how lost i feel tonight
there is a world that got away the war is done but i’m still trapped in this fucking battle
numb and cursed moss eyed doe i think i’ve plucked my own eye out
perhaps it’s just nature and my time has come to grow a beard
perhaps Noemi has gone away her angel’s don’t sit and play poker smoking big cigars like she said
it’s 4:37 am
no one wants me nor do they wish me anything any which way
click
strike
lit
gurgle
pour
clink
suck
blow
gulp
there’s an Aztec sunrise ceremony on channel 2
my belief in magic’s gone
monkey haiku psalm to church and Darwin
here look at me i’m
simply complex doing what
He made perfection
seed of pulp
melodies melt through the creamy walls
the night hot
the asphalt angry almost boiling
the sizzle of her heel
i can hear it
she comes near
the steps bend soft like wax
up she floats
i can almost see her
dressed in spicy orange
moist with musks
muffled stomps rushed then slowed
he stops
i can’t hear the locks
but i know he’s turning them
like a perky breast
almost rolling the knob
on the tips of his fingers
that smell like Cuban cigar
Hollywood is burning tonight
we sweat wilt run into our mattress
it doesn’t matter
the chords are taught
the hydras groan at him
from her fake jeweled throat
he has to convince a beautiful beast
that if she stays for a few hours
he can be more of a man
than he is now
bottles cheap dusty and old
like his hands
her purse sags from cheap makeup
and the volume of her in between tears
Hollywood has burned before and yet it rises
nothing novel in any of our eyes
now a cricket here
a dog bark farther
a few clicks on my type writer
the sun is coming up
i too swig from my dusty vials
dust bowl widow
wind warm cheeks
to the sun
dust is golden
trees so distant
tents quiver softly
epoch in her
eyes tell me
how life was
simpler in love
Roy Orbison’s pegasus 2.0
mind down to last dendrite
electricity dying down
clowns lost their candy sheen
my stage name bitter buttons big shoes
Luna pierce the sheath just let it out
wild pony flying over blue bayou
not every symbol meaning some meanings are hard to see
4th
gold line passes through there
four tribes meet and they have been for longer than i can ever know
one Meso one Afro one Europe one Orient peoples beautiful all
same hearts one dream different strokes same same same
the bridge is there she lays on her mighty back we cross not just concrete slabs but worlds too
colors flavors scents labor dignity and the human ego of course
united by segregation of their color segregated from each other by being throw an occasional bone starving of their soul
but upon closer honest sober observation on days of rainbows i can see where the tears are stitched to form the Nation where i stand
we are Los Angeles
riots marches torn down houses strikes children centers Lakers unity churches merchants Mexican chop suey Columbian Korean fusion Woody’s ribs Lupe’s tacos Italian house Red Hot Chili Peppers surfers boarders models ballers
the four directions on the 4th street bridge and what it’s come to be and what we’ve become by it is the rainbow children of our Lady
so before the Hall keepers House gablers blues reds and judge and juries request your seats mind and remember
Porciuncula and her kids do lead and ever will this vast kaleidoscope table
carnations are pink
in my kitchen calico lady cat yawns at the sunny rays piercing the window
she don’t like tuna a real nut job of a cat
my coffee’s ready four cubes and half and half we engage eyes the cat and i
she stretches ten feet long including freshly sharpened claws on the leg of the velvet black couch
i concede she’s the queen i drink coffee smokey creamy good i think of a certain lover of long ago
the cat she knows my thoughts i blush a little her pupils broaden at my joyful shame
my memories entwined with coffee steam like my lover’s clumsy breath descending on my bright pink mound
to miss not the sensation but the act of being held for a few moments by a pair of hungry arms
sensing the melancholy seeping in the cat meows at me asking that we share a glance out the window
my carnations had bloomed again after a long blue winter
it’s cool old dude
were both off you know
drunk wild seed spreader
we met in combat always
we tried i still remember the porky pigs and bugs bunnies your fellow inmates drew when you sent letters from jail
twisted twisted twisted we became one old soul one fallen angel
it’s late now you a legend i’ll leave it there
it’s ok i’ve found others to take your place then they betrayed me too
ha! trust you say i have none not even for me
i needed a daddy maybe in another life i was something wicked and i deserved you or maybe it was the other way around
you hurt me a hurt so so deep that i don’t know how to let God in
but it’s ok i can walk talk think and take a bath i can breath laugh and when they least expect it maybe even love a little
i really needed you father when i went ape shit and almost took my life ok ok a few times
just like mom always the corrector
you tried and thanks for letting me be your father
if i was a guy i wouldn’t be a good husband but i love kids so maybe i’ve been my own dad at my age i’m still confused my time line shattered
it’s ok we did what we could i can drive monster trucks shoot guns and know basic boxing moves
thanks daddy that makes me cool
i’ve got to go now we hurt each other
your legacy was tough to carry and since then i have tweaked it a bit
maybe today i will be my own mirror
threesome
moon peeks slowly orange glow beautiful at two in the morning
we inebriated on thoughts on old angers and accusations
moon she shows cleavage through silks and laces tailored for her by the Venus
we savage with our voice one fist raised above the other torn lapels teary eyes your cut knuckles my need to run
moon swells enormous pregnant by the Mars no weeping in her labor she knows how to raise the stars
we impassioned and raged swell in our erotic locations kissing negotiations the climax nears the horizon
moon wanes with satisfied relief and the pinkest carnal flush
words less spoken 