Sunday, November 15, 2015

Journalism Marble

jogging down the main road
we all start the same,
all poems start
the same

my body, smoggy, jogging
a hollow rubber suit
thick and chalky
untitled, empty

the scenery is 
only green 
in the shade

the shade is
rare, useless
my nose dripping
a dusty slime
tuning in and out of
the radio online

“It’s funny
I’m having a little
hard time going
back to life
as usual

when you hear
such terrible

they just added a taco truck
to Val Verde
a tiny toy tiny toy

“I’m not used to it”

do the funny hippies here 
stay inside all day?
do I never here see the day?
I see
renta(l) busses with tumbleweed tires
and a type of 365 crunchy leaf

“I’m feeling a bit shaky”

I worry about hemorrhoids
and birds pooping through
my skylight
I worry about the earth
trying to quake
us all off it

I smell horses
I smell tin foil

“That’s the job of people
on TV and on the radio

I know a lot of people in Paris”

I have a guest closet, a skylight,

“I get freaked out”

Inside the refrigerator
is a metallic mystery
shiny clumps of egg?
chicken? mine? hers?
old new?

“OK sorry”

I had been waiting
for a cold sore, a terrorist attack
and Friday the 13th

I had been waiting to
feel unsafe on the
marble at large

a massacre is really soft
so I’m reminded
I'm lucky, swollen

“I don’t mean to get emotional
it’s just when you read
such terrible things”

jogging on the main road
to avoid any alone time
with loose dogs

 “there’s a black dog loose”
the old lady is saying
from across the street

I worry about the loose dogs
where the road “ends soft”
so I’ll stall outside of
the fast stop (2)

tiny toys, tiny trucks, tiny
loose dogs

at least she didn’t say
“mountain lion” ?

I see
my favorite type of tree
as if wrapped with
invisible twine
I see the playset

            ( x )( o )
            ( o )( x )

lizards, butterflies
pinwheels, ziplines

kids making sparks on a leaf
not surprised

if we all ignite