to
the top
we walk fast
ancient keepers of this
land where no one knew
the truth
of what
would
befall
us

to
the top
we walk fast
ancient keepers of this
land where no one knew
the truth
of what
would
befall
us
she green gold black red
mighty swift so small is she
her wings sing out loud
few places i get to fly where nectar is plenty at dawn beyond the fog at the foot of the hills trumpets of flowers are hard to find have flown a mile industrial towers are where my forest is buried reduced to beg to borrow instead from flowers not wild that came from soulless bottomless mills Dzunuk’wa’s ornate companion was i teacher of the happy psyche freedom lover wild as thunder yet gentle like spring rain on tender ferns the vines of my Creator sky have turned to hardened wires criss crossing dividing my stars my wings fearless beating like the heart that dies so that new hearts burst out in glee through out the meadow floors of our collective imagination
meadows i see on the packages in the lady business aisle of my regular supermarket
when i was young and high living the downtown life meadows were tucked twixt the words of John Fante
on crowded freeways i imagine meadows green with polka dot flowers instead of beer bottles and trash
i too have stood on meadows ignoring reality when news and accounts have been grim
on the meadows of my mind while i stand in line waiting for my time with the speed ticket money taker i swear i have been a Hopi princess
meadows in the park constructed from repurposed everything that underserves the very point of wild God created freeform and bear in mind your parking meter too
engine speaks in tongues at times
pulls into the soul
stops dusty clotted roads
the time to move was now
like a parade
on protest days
green mile flowers
line the way
sun kisses face alone
under hood hoses roar
radio delivers telegrams
from simpler times
and long ago
trails like waiting mothers
daughter shacks lined down
their shack feet shoed with poppies
ruby slippers anti-Hollywood style
ghost maidens sell red berries
for crows atop the Joshua trees
for me to feed
can’t stand tall
only in awe
dream catch spider web
crystals for tiny arachnid queens
their king hides under the rocks
wind fingers my aging hair
cowlicks everywhere
magnetism from Her core
presses on my mouth
and leaves a score
locked in me
are secrets stored
warriors express on Her behalf
not because they deem Her less
but because She is too sacred
for this place where i come from
sculpture outside of Indian Alley art gallery and yoga studio
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