love is fierce in me

the dawn no longer scares me

strength fever wrought me


water cold serene

then the holy light appears

rebirth i am pure


time has passed by here

i pan the room i see my books

my drawings and the vibrant colors

the outfits different styles

yet mostly all black

the sleeves must remain long

security blanket still after all these years

the incense stretches smoldering in the potted plant

in Garudasana pose Cedar wood and salt

invasive thoughts seep through the fragile lucidity

of this quiet uneasiness the price i’ve had to pay

i shut my eyes i don’t trust closing them yet

at times boot camp trainings thrice removed

refuse to be shrugged off

i look in the mirror morning and night

brush the teeth etc. etc.

but today i’m feeling brave on an anniversary

of yore the battle of Werdin Place

and i see me in the mirror

piece by piece like a color by number pic

as the nights pass by hand in hand

i’m smitten with and embrace more

the medal shaped sCARs they gave me

of warrior heart i fought and fought

and that’s all that really matters


sometimes in the middle of the night

i take the train from one part of town

and then back to the other side

i can’t sleep so i face my curiosity

tipping into the cleavage of the city

and her girlfriend moon

outside of the rolling cab my eyes

they register that it’s dirty

i swear i can see the car exhaust

black sooty pungent belching vulgarity

in the lungs of LA

behold the automotive crack pipe

then my attention flutters to the men

velvet skin plastic smiles and silver tongues

selling me a piece of Jesus and His hotrod

Hollywood Boulevard how much to eat me tonight

i burrow my alien feelings into the tunnels

and the cocky rail rides me to the platform

where humanity scrambles at the truth

of how small we must be to the Bitchgoddess

of everything all poets in history

have lamented about

to chase and purr on the formidable

lies that we are fed

only to show who kindness i wonder

i’m too old and out of time

to place gender or definition on my pleasures

the time to gamble with the rules and regulations

is quickly ending

at dawn pink and gray

with the smell of the city and

her beautifully cruel courtesans

on my hands and lips

i stagger up 7th street

and bum a cigarette from the Meals on Wheels guy

chat up Bang Me Billy and ask about his truck

we stroll to the rich folk Starbucks

he waltzes me up to the lines

we both feel very alive again

and smile at the young savvy people

when they turn up their nose

advice i’d give me if i was my mother

go ahead eat the three cup cakes

jay walk across the mischievous waters

buy Big Mac’s for the street kids

ask the hookers for beauty tips

church hop if the Spirit insists

wrap your thighs around whichever boy you wish

on your terms and not his

go against the family tradition

ride the Ducati instead of the Harley

crank up Led’s Black Dog as you’re lighting a fatty

stay home and read books and howl at the moon

at 3:30 past doom if that’s what makes you happy

talk about the Bard by the water cooler

turn the page when you’ve mastered your spirit

nurture your brain and balance that heart

if you punch punch with your left

but remember they got to swing at you first

if you look wicked good don’t hide it

and every compliment offered to the sisterhood

should come from the heart

don’t disrespect tit for tat the brotherhood

flash them your smile as you’re crushing that Zen


it’s not that i am being difficult Majesty

my people have no food to eat

not a pond to wash their tired feet

and my sons they squabble in vain

my daughters they struggle in pain

Majesty all i‘m saying is that my words

should not offend you as you have told

me always speak truth

but i have realized that i

do not agree that my tongue should be tied

and my soul deprived of freedom

to be who i am to soar to the heavens

or to delve in the deep

i do not agree that my limbs

should be caged if i have to

wage war against the enemies of my innocent babes

i don’t mean to be ungrateful

and rebellious at times

but when my children are cut down

by your Princes and clowns

i have to attack with my voice and my heart

through words that are poison

to your ego fueled mind

the sergeants of time

will slowly creep by

and carve out a zone

where i might just languish

in your punishing hate

but don’t turn your back

on those who adore you the most

because with every flower and offering

and purse full of coins

that they render to you

will only weigh you down

to a perdition of soul of spirit and crown

you can shut my lips and burn my body down

but it’s just a body a bag made of vanishing flesh

however Majesty you cannot neglect

the truth in their eyes

the strength in their breath

the beauty in their spirit

their righteous battle call

when the war rages out

the wicked will fall

in the room

the edge of summer is always rougher in down town the garbage cooks in the hot August sun and the mango pits baste in the pigeons’ bath water but i can’t help to be in love with the complex and undeniable lived in beauty of the city

as soon as i step into the lobby i see Mr. Petrucchio’s grand daughter with a mile wide smile because granpa will be moving in with them today i agree the Cecil is no place for an aging refined man or anyone else who didn’t have the junky sickness or the negotiating with the devil credentials

half of my life has gone by although i count my birthdays in dog years so old in my soul and experience but too young in some circles a gen x’er with no money too many bills the last of the missing generation child of war birthday cake candle blower outer low brow collector little girl but i still have me rickety cracked me

sitting in my bed room with my cats and dog we laugh and talk as i finger bang the keyboard i think about smoking a cigarette but i don’t i miss the Cecil the old Cecil full of the residue of Adam’s sin i miss a phantom childhood you know the one where we become our parents’ parent yeah i’m not bitter i got to play with real barbie dolls mainly holding their hair back in my mom’s bathroom when they were throwing up too many cocktails diet pills and i guess too much cock that made them pregnant who knew i was just seven

its August 2019 the edge of summer again its rougher now we have placeless people stewing in the system stewing in the tents waiting for a breath of help the Cecil has cleaned up mostly serves to house tourists looking for the LA experience i shy away from their questions like where’s the best Mexican Food where can we find parking how much are you asking for a blow job baby and being me i have to answer back i’m too big to fit down your throat sweetheart i’ve learned to disarm some but not all yet i love my city it’s my home and she’s disarmed me any way she’s wanted to my sweet Sensei i’ve been a good student though she can’t deny that

where has life gone and my summers and popsicles hot dogs and fireworks on the fourth where has the magic gone i’ve missed much so the Fall is coming along with the adverts of pumpkin spice everywhere the new Fall collections the new laws that question the very validity of what the Gods have created and the pangs of sadness come but also the reminder that life goes on in spite of decree or tears or me i’m learning to love something greater than the world at long last hobo girl i say don’t worry you can still smile a mile wide

spiritual something

as far as little girls went i was not very normal i read and understood language on a different level i could imagine with my mind’s eye seeing the words float up from a page or sign or billboard or holy book like smoke when the Vatican has chosen a new pope

i thought i could genuinely speak to non human life forms through my thoughts and at a young age the whirlwind of the lives of the adults while in my Topanga canyon years caused me to believe in the spiritual something that was always there invisible but tangible only to my soul ever present warning me hide the keys flush those pills down the toilet before they get them and die for the day don’t go home with that man don’t touch mommy’s things hide by the creek

always the presence during the part of life when the soul seizes to be tender and becomes a little hardier the spiritual something became overbearing not like Joan of Arc’s but just getting in the way i wanted to do my will even though it wasn’t the right thing to do for the sake of my soul and well being i followed the human aspect that surrounded me and forsook the spiritual something

now that i’ve traversed several planetary rotations i know it’s there and sometimes i can feel it most often i can’t or i can’t tell if subconsciously i refuse to feel it however the mortgage of my misguided self agency has come due

para meu encantador narcisista



once again

i inventory all

the polite games we played

both on the one last night that we

shared and while the Thai noodles were great your constant chatter on how

girls matter more when they take care of themselves you took my face so gently and stared directly at my lips

my heart leapt once and then began to coil away it mattered not that i had thought that speaking words of kindness to the angry lonely  man outside your door where far more decadent and precious than the

lipstick that i wore instead you said this shade of red you got from the corner store but my friend Beth who works for Saks can hook you up with Lancome it mattered not that i had thought

my 115 pounds were enough to be the woman i wanted to be instead you said your ass is flat we’ll

fix that at the gym i’ll put aside your contempt for my will

let wrinkles come like medals of high honor

i am who i am

smart bitch untamed

by the



meu destino final

Picture courtesy of Sue Vincent

at last arrival

after having traveled far

the mists welcome me

goddess to the Lord

silent trees in your palace

Earth’s road guides me in

by standing still my

soul witnessed the majesty

grace that lights His cloak

float i do down the

path to see my loves again

the human gauze falls

at long last from my

eyes that i may see my truth

and pain disappears