just another day
there are things
that are meant
to he secret
there are codes
that are followed
and no one
knows the meaning
or how the
human drama will
be played out
perhaps there will
be murder or
the sale of
drugs there will
be money to
be made no
matter what the
cost of it
where did that young girl go with wild wild hair to the air wind Master goddess
i used to see her in her shredded dirty jeans skateboard and Vespa rider with a Red Hot Chili Peppers sticker on it
flipping BMW drivers transporting hair metal idols up that degenerate Sunset boulevard
she went to hand out scraps of food and sterile needles to those trespassers of the high falutin hills of Hollywood
laughing crying walking up the trails to the magically acoustic historical Bowl in the hopes of enticing young runaways to come and stay at the charity homes
touched forever by JMBs dinosaurs with lines roller skating on the canvas walls
to meet the hero in her mind and not to know if he sunk or rose after getting called to judgment
streets wet with ocean dew by the train stop
girls with glittering mouths dance in the eyes
men who lost their wages to sinful lust
we smoke with lights out every other block
in the ally they waste covered with flies
bended knees to a system that’s not just
our dreams fast escape through broken windows
on some faces a smile is just a lie
through loss of self remember not to trust
we long for those we love trapped in shadows
filthy shame to cause our blood to rust
the soul cauterized from love so we die
walk the streets with spirits that now are crushed
the warmth of hearts these mean streets have frozen
at night our cries hush
Taino walked closer to me he wrapped his poncho covered arms around me almost twice and began to cry sharing with me that his mom had cancer and that he dreamt i died in the 3rd street tunnel i cried for his mother too his words only solidified the reality of my having to stop being a junkie maybe i’d be a worse person for stopping maybe i’d be a better person for it that was the risk and the chance that i would have to take no matter how afraid i was i would have to learn how to live with this new sober self because the old junkie self was killing me i couldn’t die no matter how hard i wanted to there was something in me taunting me that i could not die and i would not die i knew every inch of this truth because i had tried to die many a time in the past and failed i failed for a reason that i didn’t entirely comprehend not logically like a scientist but like something a feeling walking in a dark cave feeling yourself through the black path with your fingers bloody and scratched up even in pain down to the bone you eventually crawl out into the light and the light will hurt your eyes for the first few seconds after my trip to detective Tate and several more visits to Taino’s apartment it took me seven years to crawl out of that cave and into the bull ring of life written about by Papa and even after all this time i still find myself maneuvering the symbolic lancets capes and swords needed to bring down the lingering bull-strength ghost of addiction
waking up in a curtained hospital emergency room a few hours later felt like the mist of dry ice cold lonely i wasn’t sure if i was shivering out of fear anger or because i was in need of a fix quietly i began to pull IVs out of my scratched scrawny arms but then was foiled by the noisy Mexican nurse coming in to check on me “oh little missy you shouldn’t do that here just relax and the doctor will be right in ok” she stuck me back in the arms as she smiled wide and exaggerated like a jester i resented her calling me ‘missy’ but i figured she was just doing it to be friendly after all there was no way in hell she enjoyed patching up half dead carcasses coming in during grave yard at County Emergency she had that normal all-American positive vibe pretty and middle aged “what time is it ma’am” i strained a dry rasp “it’s 5:49 am honey listen there’s a detective talking to your doctor right now they’ll come in to see you soon do you need anything some water or tea” asked my nurse as she smiled at me this time like Carmen Zapata from the 70’s kid’s show ‘Villa Alegre’ where i learned some Spanish when i was a foster kid i wanted to take refuge in her normal all-American positive vibe as i started feeling queasy and shaky again lying on the gurney with my thighs and insides on fire a lava lamp-like panic began unraveling
1. on the edge life sits
2. the sky orange with tinge
3. of the progress by man
4. if we tilt we lose footing
5. if we bend we lose grace
6. the compromise too great
7. so we sit unknowingly
8. but not silent
9. fingers say our words
10. our tongues no longer needed
11. my body moulded by ballots
12. but what of the soul
13. a spirit cracked
14. where the better angels
15. how to make
16. this whole again
smog ring trash truck roar
morning toke begging cup score
her smile yet to be
a new year began with new decisions set into motion life has become as tasty as it is to bite into a drop of water going along for a cruise Sunday traffic as it should be nicer cars whiz by yet the wind in my hair with tinges from the valley we pass the Fortress of Hollywood’s mysteries pressing forth on the one o one music from your youthhood fits you like a stretched out girdle particularly where the lace is falling off but i say nothing i nod in support of your choices instead my face is made up mostly the eyes my scars and wrinkles the tattoos on my arms they make me feel something the hills and horses grasses and trees stand around me like pall bearers to be i turn my face to the right and my lips kiss the warmth of the sun instantaneously i wonder if i placed my breast in the light would i get that effect of feeling again
it took about three hours to get to Los Angeles Street
from Mission Avenue
with its grandiose blocks of junked cars
guys who waved flags like bull fighters
funneling you into their driveways
to get your muffler fixed for $75
i thought about Hemingway’s story
looking down at the dirty greased earth
wondering why i wasn’t dead that afternoon
trying to find the lesson or the meaning
of that certain event in my life
my body hurt
the concrete was harder than i had ever remembered
the worn sole of my one right Chinese girl shoe
mouthed slowly at every step i’d take
as it “peeoed-peeoed” at me
like baby birds demanding food
i thought of my left shoe
it became a casualty
strewn under a fire escape at Werdin Place
i imagined my shoe there
embalmed with bum urine and cigarette ash
never really felt self-pity
until that moment
my one black sock
still on my left foot
i stank like Camels and latex
i was dirty all the way
deep into the marrow
i consoled myself
tearing the bandages from my throat and my left ring finger
the bandages caused me to admit defeat
worst yet
victimhood
i sat on the curve of Sunset and Spring St.
to cry amongst the scent of taquitos and Peking duck
knock knock knock bang bang bang
“Ay! I goingg, cheeett!” said a husky voice from behind 303
“Ciao, Taino,” i whispered
“Ave Maria! Niňa, what happen to juu?! Alvaro, Alvaro! Cojeme el first aid kit!” tisked Taino
“I’m good doll. I just took a little beating late last night. I’ve already seen the doctors,” i explained
Taino dressed in a paisley green red and gold muumuu
ignored my answer
heavy mocha hands gently pulled and tugged
at the hoodie full of blood
his thick long red taloned fingers
negotiated with my bruises
fussing over me
Taino’s fiery short red bob
swooshed back and forth
past his round jowls
right below the heavy rouge line
he ordered his friend
to go get dragon won ton soup
Gatorade and ginger ale right quick
while Taino spoon fed me
he would rattle on
about simpler times
in the Puerto Rican mountains
about his mother’s cuisine
after a long day at work
Taino would look at me tenderly
eyelids thickly lacquered
blue shadow and black fake eye lashes
akin to window awnings
while he lined me
i’d caress his thick indigenous cinnamon face
that is why i named him Taino
“O.k. niňa vamos a dormir now mi reina.” he whispered in my ear
as he spooned me
telling his roommate Alvaro
not to answer the “gatdam” door to anyone
“Taino, do you believe in God?” i remember slurring
“Oh, si mami, claro.” Taino agreed in a hush
“Taino, is your mom happy you are like a woman? I am Taino, I love you,” those words crawled
out of my mouth
“Ay niňa, so many questions,” i could hear him sighing
a million miles away
words less spoken 