water cold serene
then the holy light appears
rebirth i am pure
Mental Health Crisis
dying between closing arguments
luck
smitten
with few steps
happy with the
choices i have made they belong to me
unpopular turns delinquent alike
options were mine
judgmental
endings
are
just
that my
conviction
is steady all
ready to go come the wave of infernal
positioned to strike with white hot venom
for mercy and
dripping with
bloody
hand
dissecting the Geneva Convention
the summer is what it is here
the humidity clinging to my tired skin
like a crazy 50’s t.v. wife mockery
on Wall there’s the law and then there’s us
each side with glaring mutual understanding
that nothing is being done
no longer angels no longer devils
Gods gone fishing and they won’t be coming back
the species of Adam failed to keep their end of the
Covenant with Noah and Jesus holy shit what have we done
in life there is reason and there’s law
inside the soul there is right and there is wrong
inside the ego all is mine and nothing yours
on Koehler there is a man who doesn’t know he suffers
the fear he knows not himself prisoner of
the bio-hazardous ecosystem freedom gone awry
the filth the human shit the rage the insanity disease
the pain addiction poverty starvation piss trash
tears the waste of modern time
no longer get through the stains of a life
poorly lived or sorely wasted no logic
no feelings no rhyming no Kingdom will come
betwixt the cardboard and the shelter
the damage has been done
wage on me wage your wars
indifference is your nuclear weapon
middle c
when the dirt on my shoes
starts to click the pavement
i go to the park
pray to the squirrels
bow to the trashcan
gambling that at the bottom
will be a half eaten idea
that i can sell
when the anger in my soul
starts to pound out my heart
i go to that tent
beg to the man
bow to the pipe
give away the music in my bones
for a hope that i will stop the pain
when there is a nowhere and no rainbow
and my shadow trades places with me
i go in my head
get lost in the wave
of no way out symphonies
so i turn in for the day
to welcome in the tepid night
and wait for that clicking to begin
et ecce mulier
omnipotent dawn shawled in gray and pink delicately kisses her on her scarred forehead as it rests against the bus bench advertising the most prestigious real estate agent in town while seven nylon bags each with a logo from a market or a high end store warehouse her last prized belongings one ragged blue Nike sneaker and paper cups filled with grime a broken clock and red wires
militant she is in body in mind she could be anywhere beyond the stars when she smiles the image in her eyes reveal the fires from hell in a most delicate green other times she sings in laughter and waves hello across the sky to the graces never seen by human eyes the locals with finery of wear wonder why she’s there and crown her as a public nuisance not meant to be part of this community there is just too much of a great divide between her prophecy and their brittle decaying reality
look the lawmen arrive she’s more despised and made to carry her belongings down Dolores St. and then the dusk with iron claw he comes and she can’t run away from the hand of fair and righteous rule the goodly people have unanimously decided through tax forms and priority that she must go away the jury wash their hands for the people have spoken and so she takes her fate with a tired brave face not understanding the hate or what she did and where it got her
for three days she’s placed on a hold prodded with instruments of scorn and judgment pleading for her thirst to be mollified she’s forced to take bitter pills as the keepers of the places gamble on her kismet now she’s subdued her gown is sheared down to her contorted waist lacerated feet and hands are tied to the bed of loveless nails for the sake of the most upstanding people’s protection system
Ma Joad’s great grand daughter
mud
coolness
green cricket
calls to the soul
primordial waste
spirit shredded woven
in the skin of the leper
i’ve become night hangs loosely poor
lacking luster my lady shoes not
good enough to walk the sidewalks of the
chosen fools who speed holiness away
my gown humble with the dirt of work
hands clasped in riot darkly hid
elbows turned upright gaping
for fluids of defeat
social sunshine glares
upon my lips
without a
tragic
face
try
mighty
sinner smile
at least look to
the west of Hope street
and the pillars under
the court house of the fake lights
at the steps of public health signs
and with divine encrusted begging
bowl nee five dollar coffee paper cup
we ask again tonight and through the day
for gentle rain across my face gone
away with sorrow full with blown
out stars gazing through the soul
of infant time and sin
seeped through secret holes
in skies hazy
with sanguine
guilty
stain
waif
death
cover
me no rest
blind darkness thrive
in the garden hidden past the mountain
fold my arms atop my chest and walk off
temperature
cold and dry
country
of
mine
where have
you gone from
your wild child free
but lost to fences that strike my soul shut
i don’t see the stars any longer light
anyone’s way
before night
one last
kiss
Carol
Carol was trying to find a few cigarette butts to gut out to make a whole cigarette although she wasn’t a smoker she’d sell them to her neighbors in the tent next door for fifty cents with her thin arms and micro wrists she’d toil for a couple of weeks to raise enough money to go to the flower store on Los Angeles street and buy her parole officer a single rose or sometimes two or three red carnations i had met Carol while i was in high school at that time she was in her thirties she befriended me at People’s Store asking me about my perfume on account that she liked it i was a young punk and i told her that i wasn’t wearing any and walked off Carol stood there looking confused but the guilt gnawed at my chest and i could feel my ears turning hot and red i told my friend to go home and i walked backward a few steps toward Carol as i turned to her i mumbled at her that i was sorry for blowing her off and offered her my snickers bar she lit up and said thanks kid but i’d rather have some of that beer you have in your back pack i froze and denied having anything in my bag although i knew damned well i had a bottle of Daniels i didn’t like beer we both smiled knowing each other’s truth in bullshit every now and again i’d go looking for her with water bottles canned food and the occasional AJ note if i could spare it we talked about DTLA and Skidrow Carol laughed and i watched her and then she started to tell me about her family out in Virginia Carol had been a victim of many unspeakable things my relationship with Carol lasted for about three years or so her sanity was remarkable but as time went on it became unbearable to watch her sleep during the day in the summer LA heat her legs were encrusted with months of dirt and when i stared long enough at the splotches they were almost artistic or hieroglyphic in a way i stopped visiting for a few months to reckon with my own demons when i returned it was during spring time and Carol did not recognize me i found her on the corner of 6th and Wall squatted down bare footed picking peas out of a tin can with half a label that read Springfield by her feet was an old pill bottle that read Retrovir a few cigarette butts and a mangled how to live with HIV pamphlet
los soles no miran
en tu fiebre duermes cada noche
reina de la orilla del mar
gritas y pateas a tus soldados
cuando te quieren llevar
a tu palacio en los altos de esta cuidad
tus mandos sin fuerza
tus joyas sin brillo
y tus zapatillas de seda
solo son heridas de la vida
Norma del Reino de Guadalajara
que haces en mi ciudad
perdida de noche
invisible en los días
la luna no brilla
los soles no miran
que tuyos serán los cielos
os sóis não vêem
na sua febre você dorme todas as noites
rainha da praia
você grita e chuta seus soldados
quando eles querem te levar
para o seu palácio nas alturas desta cidade
seus controles sem força
suas jóias maçantes
e seus chinelos de seda
eles são apenas feridas da vida
Norma do Reino de Guadalajara
o que você está fazendo na minha cidade
perdida à noite
invisível nos dias
a lua não brilha
os sóis não parecem
que vocês serão os céus
the suns don’t see
in your fever you sleep every night
queen of the seashore
you scream and kick at your soldiers
when they want to take you to your palace
on the heights of this city
your orders without power
your jewels dulled
and your silk slippers
they are only wounds of life
Norma of the Kingdom of Guadalajara
what are you doing in my city
lost at night
invisible during the days
the moon does not shine
the suns do not see
that you will inherit the heavens
boonie rat haiku
an opened can of
corn and ash filled cups behind
your bible bookcase
i didn’t notice
dusk approaching silently
baby blue surfboard
against your bedroom
doors my hand reaches to them
Darwin winks at me
encircling my legs
your absence claws both our hearts
he feeds on salmon
the path of cigar
ashes etched like hieroglyphs
leads to your studio
Old Glory salutes
me she hangs on solemnly
a noble widow
kneeling in front of
the jar holding your medals
Darwin smiles at me
