Urban Life

after the X show

/ mbrazfieldm

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

not mainstream

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the sun is shy dark weepy sad the red stars on the hipsters Mao bags are dull it is a bazaar of thought living on the tops of the foam of your demon seas rebel rider non Jane Fondaer grown girl he dirty boy military card heir LA west of Hollywood Battleship Potemkin plays let’s go drop bomb on my tongue baby Jimmy Hendrix’s way irony one hundred ways to think that we can go to Sizzler after this and dude your mom has a new car but if i were on that ship ida’ve done the same damn thing he sings to me God Save the Queen and we go fuck behind the dumpster but we can’t seem to fit it in and we go back to talking about politics

climate change

/ mbrazfieldm / 6 Comments

at the bench i think i’m sitting watching absent mindedly soaking in the flair and magic of the scene jesters and contortionists control the court in front of me cages of allegory truths and fantasies but lest we forget the straight up lies of the institutional do gooders is this it voice of reason hushed up forever when we beg with Coke and Starbucks paper cups where do the coins truly go when we need help and guidance in completely being our scared self why must we worship your flesh and bone pastor and why is it that only your bumper sticker matters i can think too and feel and love i understand that new deals of any color my Mother will not save unless we’re willing to streamline and electrify our own internal ways honoring self and brother truly from the heart giving to Her salvation and letting go the appropriation of who’s got the only righteous thoughts

cicatrix

/ mbrazfieldm / 10 Comments

it’s best if we sigh now

oh life for all of my days

you still haunt me

you just a state of neurological being

but you life you have gotten in my blood

no other place is better

i was conceived old

my thoughts Gemini to Don Quixote

and in times of desperation

i’ve gone blindly into battle too

just a shit head little cunt

from the city of LA

but fuck, fuck i say

you and i sister tough old bitch

we still stand

on the corners and the roofs

we too sit in the high life cafes

and the rat infested flop house bars

to tell old drunk sailors but not of Navy type

of how we got our scars

rape intoxication politics aggravation

education isolation insanity warm sun shine

loneliness love devotion twisted words

beatings in the dark making love on the sand

injecting poisons til the boils could hold no more

rode in the ambulances

mourning flat-lined blue lipped boys

ah life i am yours and no one else’s

when sitting by the ponds the koi fish

bubble up asking for my orange cheese crackers

every so often i can shed a few tears

when the coroner loads one of us into their van

never knowing who they were

but knowing that they’ll go to heaven

but my favorite scar by my cupids bow

when my face got smashed on the garage asphalt floor

so many fears and rage at the same time

and the pictures of my mother

lost on my travels with no paradigms

the scars in my heart

i keep those inside

some demons are best left

to the annals of the mind

now my friend lover spouse and enemy

we’ve walked down the path

that’s led us close to the horizon

of twilight and as much as i want to lay down to rest

and ponder your meaning and flick ashes on the floor

i realize that i’ve been just another story

at times screaming off my head

another woman scarred

by the significance

of nothing in your eyes