the prophets of boyd street

cherish your life their eyes say while they take a sip from the poisoned well cherish all life organic beautiful gross untouchable evil or good all of it without boundary cherish the Unknown be wise some day you will know Us don’t question why or how we happen to be here their eyes sang in choir question your heart on how to move your soul onto higher ground all is not what it seems we are all not who you think we might be cherish your mind think think think and question your brother but cherish him as well the time of cheeks is over reason cannot not work without selfless charity from your heart cherish who you are

Queen Sun

gold hot life

resurrection giver

to sleepy weeds soon turned to flowers

spread queenly ample ultra violet thighs across asphalt parking lot

and in betwixt the cracks of crowded city streets

there too there is growth

nurse mother Sun antiseptic in your love

disease and sorrow annihilator

You smile and wrap around my shoulders through my sagging window

and i thank you

brussel sprouts

pine table size 3 wine toned Mary Jane’s from Roebucks and Sears

chair aged and rubbed faded in all the places Sherlock Holmes would investigate

faded Levi jeans holed at the knees fixed with a Wonder Woman patch

Tupperware plate off beat psychedelic green and she sipped her hootch from fine bone China

blue eyes to me liver and onions gold chains on her cleavage and one scrambled egg on her rye toast and butter

Starsky and Hutch were fixin’ to start and those damned brussel sprouts between me and the screen

then the neighbor comes by and they both lose their minds over some CBS scandal

now is my chance i run to the trash flip up the flap and in goes the midget cabbage

and i watched my whole show practiced the Huggy Bear victory stroll while celebrating my four year old courage

demander au ciel bleu

mbrazfield (c) 2020

when my mind was little

the skyscrapers were tall

God was big too

the streets were filled

with faces strong that walked alone in my drowning dreams

the functions of my body not under my control

and when the body seasoned into what men had sought

it was as if a flock of doves had scattered from my soul

the moon was maiden too long before my birth and then was trampled on her light fallen from its grace

but today i read about a boy and trees his looking for the life that did live underneath

the soil of creation and where someday i will be

looking at the captivating blue glass crystal skies waiting for His words

🌠thanks to my friend Stephen @ https://fullbeardlit.org/2020/04/08/along-this-path-a-five-oclock-poem-by-stephen-fuller-with-audio for inspiring this offering

wine

sweet age she nestles between the folds of my skin

the blurred mirror tells my tales

eyes dark yellow swamp colored crystalline with dew

tears they have emotion encoded through the years

my lips pucker and it’s my grandmother who i see eye brows raised a little my mother stares at me

and when the scrutiny of French soap is through only a jaundiced blush peeks on my face

reminders of past lovers’ livid strikes

youth you silly delirium pills spirits powders and glues substitutes for reality during a time when lies were truths

aged lady time i have always loved you a dumb girl Don Juan begging for you be merciful old girl my bones are soft and wine however fine was rarely a comfort

this hill of mine beloved of Fante and i oh do you remember the sliding down rolling banshees trust fund empties

ah i talk too much i have been dying since Eve’s creation was not being born the original abomination

time please cloak that mirror i don’t want to be trapped in my memory of wiping bloody sorrow from my face and from the face of my mothers

time can i ever forgive myself

after the X show

the soft cool feather strokes of breeze fingered through my shaggy tangled hair teasing out a kaleidoscope of red highlights

the muddy booted covered feet carried my dirty denim wrapped carcass through the termite riddled door into his wool upholstered army cot where he kept 3 golf clubs

we kissed wildly like two beasts on the savannah interlocked in that battle to the death right before they cut to the Mutual of Omaha commercial

love i wondered as he pawed at me what was it while his teeth searched for my young girl bits

it wasn’t like the movies nor was there flirtation or sexy anticipation like in Bei Mir Bistu Shein

then he stopped my eyes still closed and my tongue lapping in the dark

i need a cigarette he whispered can i bum one i rasped

what is love do you think i dealt out my rhetorical grunts

an almost neon silhouette of his broad shoulders shrugged against the poker faced moon