field notes from a bankrupt hopebroker 2.26

mbrazfield (c) 2024

if we could be safe in our seats we could share of our misery shed tears and sometimes maybe smile just because we’ve learned to navigate it doesn’t mean we deserve less than this we too like softness color flowers and art we too like chicory coffee and 5 dollar donuts we too understand the worth of work the taste of sweat and the temperature of let blood we are dignified in our wreckage we stand tall in your false shame we smile kindly forgivingly at your hollow grief for us today we sit on this humble chair where when asked we dissect our terrors and we remain grateful to this stoic chair for holding our hands as we let loose of our fears

clouds with wires

mbrazfield (c) 2024

i like my clouds with some wires
memories of kindergarten
Franklin’s kites and keys
corduroy jackets pigtails

i like my sky with blue infinity
endless forever high up
United Nations NPR
Joe Strummer high gas prices

wires are reminders to my eyes
finish lines running away from
eventually crossing them
grinning old girl am i

blue inks on papers change
trajectories of lives
bars in language community
null void twisted noise

clouds pure shamanic puff
feeding the ducks in Lincoln Heights
remember those we lost
immortalized on walls
ironically in life that’s all they’ve known

wires clouds blue sky songs
baking bread train track grease
cool wind cigarette butts
let my mind be silent today

mbrazfield (c) 2024

cyber Monday

cyber Monday tired long drive
random Target children crying wanting
mothers sighing fathers walking behind
cops strolling looking for something
not in particular looking plain
inside partly broken hard times
we all stare out far
our thoughts hidden polite smiles
riddled with worries this that
crimes in our head saddened
skies blue clouds fluffy right
still deepening in the heart
a desire to be upright
while looking inside of grief
snow is fake elves shelved
Palestine hurts Israel bleeds here
America sinks as she steps
on heads backs shoulders hands
the people we hang dangling
Betty Crocker’s ads cannot repair
the damage of those here
walking shopping pretending most wonderfully
to be free to do
to love to speak openly
but we’re not just drowning
underneath raging mad correspondents with
all the lies that linger
here at a random Target
on cyber Monday we are

pookie pipes

on most nights
after the good girls have gone to bed
i remain in the bastard streets
of the fancy conniving boulevard
a priest of sorts a mother to them all
a bandage a kind word a gift card to Subway a needle a pamphlet
on every corner a hefty dose of Narcan
on most days i wonder
“what will i see today”
a corpse a hooker a business man
perhaps a Hilton or a Kardashian
my reflection on a tarnished metal sheet stretches my eyes down
it streamlines my cheeks
i flush and quickly leave
the phone rings
needed now on 7th street
when a little kid i was
Broadway was the place to be
Bruce Lee double features
before the Mexican Bs poured out
from the silver sheets mariachi trumpets and cock fights
the arcade and Arab jewelry shops
the old men speaking Yugoslav
fighting over parking spots
those were my early days
it’s about 4:36 am heading on foot
to Pershing square
the tamale vendors begin to stake
a corner with the most gabacho laborers
the scents and stenches
the city moaning itself to rise
i midwife the rising baby sun
sitting on the retainer walls
of Angels Flight
noticing a stash of pookie pipes
glistening in the runoff
of the Angelino fading starlight
it’s time for coffee and a jaunt
to Werdin Alley where i collect
the ticker tape prophecies in my mind
of what i will encounter later
in the nightmares of my night

counter psalm

chaos leads me to where they want

they make me sleep under shooting helicopters it guides me to lethal fire water

it vaporizes my soul it taunts  me through the bridges of emptiness for its master’s gain

against my will i crawl through the tunnels of the brothers of hell i too have bent to darkness because i have no choice its laws and regulations punish me

its servant prepares a toe tag for me among the million files of others fallen you judge my disease with disgust my blood dried on the tile flooring

judgement and prejudice flanks me till the day i die and eternity will find a way to erase me

wednesday at the fire escapes

mbrazfield (c) 2023

silence stares from the insides
of the old pile of sticks
on some mornings there’s the smell
of Cuban coffee and always
the stench of dying kidneys
on the streets
we shiver and sweat together
only appropriate credentials
get to play the martyrs
Desi yells at Lucy
at the exact moment the gates of hell
have broken loose
we all just hapless renegades
begging for a push
and even though it’s hard to walk
within our modern tomb
we postpone the end of life
one alveoli at a time