bio

when i was a child

the God’s words confused me

as it was in the beginning

so shall it be in the end

Marley’s wailers also wailed

yet it still made no sense

when i was a girl

i studied about war in the local school textbook

but saw that both famous Abrahams modes of being sat naked on the dirty modern streets no bosom to hold tight to

no log cabin to sleep in

and Mary virgin mother became an entrepreneur in bottled holy wine and bloody linen sheets

just like any old biker momma i would come to meet

when i ran away just before the legal untender age

i devoted my life to Saint N Cassady

acid tests numbed out tongues

hugging my chest to my knees  

i just one spec of ash

from the forest of the streetlamps

where we all burned

from creationists angry balls

middle road i step the curb

beginning never esoteric

ending at my mother’s vault

whispering sitting on the retainer wall

perhaps in this universe

i’ve lived it all simultaneously

when will the saints

mbrazfield (c) 2020

since the gases of The Breath began to stir laying star mosaic highway to my Earth i have stood here with the Mothers see our skin with every deep trench within lies a simple truth no matter how those eyes may look at it those evergreens beyond man’s streets will make their way to find me i the omnipotent Mother armored in degrees of time so tempered holding on to blades of grass and crooning birds the smiles of ghosts prophets who are strangers and now it is my time the holy Breath she comes on flames attire placing the finishing touches before i’m ushered softly silently diligently into a tomb of slumber

done a little dance

right in the middle of your eyes where the universe glows
i can see the future there i go
i tango to the middle
of the nuclear bomb
evaporated into the nothingness of everything in the world
and the world above that world and so forth and so on
i don’t claim to be a physicist
i don’t claim to be anything because i want to tango into the middle of your nuclear bomb
i don’t understand how it got this way
there are sunsets and there are sunrises
and there are suns and there are moons and stars
and i suppose i’ve been told there is a God
but the one who told me is merely a human
how can we know
there is fire
there is hot hot fire
there is very cold ice
there are lights that are just imagination
of those who’ve come before me after they’ve tangoed into your nuclear bomb
in the midnight puddle of water
where the crazy heard the call
to tango into the river of everlasting
that went inevitably wrong
with head underwater
as the oxygen bubbles pop
the cries of angst
burst out at me
mirror mirror in the dark
fade boom atomic tomb

mbrazfield (c) 2020

purgatory

time appears to have gone on forever and there is a big chunk of me whatever i am that has not changed on this day a very long time ago i was granted permission to come into this world to a big city that is just made of legend i learned very quickly that when the sun went down we all bled shit sleep fought hated just like each other no big difference not from the next city over not from the next country over and probably not from other planets today that old cautionary statement we only live above our demons but we never get rid of them swirls in my head i confess at times i don’t know how i think how i see things i don’t even know sometimes if i believe in pain emotional spiritual physical i don’t know the difference at times what does it feel like to be without pain does it feel the same as being in pain don’t know so here i am back at the Cecil Hotel right where i have always been obviously not in body but in soul sometimes when there is no one around to question the fuck out of me and why my face looks or doesn’t look how they want it to look that particular day i wonder am i a ghost i wonder have i been reincarnated i wonder when i look up and down Broadway and Main to the left or to the right and then i look up and turn around and i look at empty shells of buildings where gargoyles used to be decorations masonry ballrooms perhaps so much and then there will be a particular window that enraptures my eyes and i can’t look away and if i squint my third eye i swear i can see her young dark hair big green brown eyes i don’t know what her name would have been maybe Hazel maybe Dorothy who knows not a modern name and then when my third eye blinks she jumps