your calendar

 
christmas eve sunset is evil 

knowing

the yellow break through 

almost foreign

the unbothered city below 

(gotham) 

it's like so

fall on me

you can see the curve

*

christmas day is clean with

baby element

the sky with clouds is only blue

and only white 

skeleton woman

all over the place

picking up the phone like

cooking/finding 

freedom (within)

if life is the wine

between the jug 

and the glass

and if I'm not wrong

becoming the lover

of your own nightmare?

to be touched well

the pain after 

without it

my miniature 

hectic nature

(a diorama)

cuz in the Big way

I want you to feel so good

so full of love and

if I can be involved 

the way she

smells like soap 

on the 3rd hug 

hUge dream

woke up from the mess

with a sore throat and

your name in my mouth

maya says to see it

as a wall hanging

other side

yesterday was strong

and crystal

mom asked

is this a rainy day

in LA

I said 

kinda yeah

manually giving

permission to

abstract relief 

today is lazy smooth

I wanna have sex

but 

eat sardines

☮

the mountain looks nice this morning 
clear with delicate sun
I’m thinking about you 

the way it's 

warm, dispersed

somehow 

the thinking is oiled

a serious calm settles

on this long edge

in the shape of

a question or

it calls up 

the peripheral alphabet

I clock my kinks 

for phonics,

periphery

it's a good day 

for gravity 

the red light 

at the mountain

Thursday in 3 

slow pieces

when it's done 

 

work between 2 pillows

and the clouds want to break

Thursday 

in the custody

of its own gentleness 

October 50th

long in longing

since

the cypress trees

at the top of the street

our walk,

the same one

I've been doing

vitamin D

at the bottom of the my bag

all of my M's

it's always October 

when time 

shovels

etc.

cherish the red lights

to work, and 

sometimes

cry quietly

at the mountain

pull up tunes from

point A

to roll thru

again I

pull up 

wet

question soup 2.0

what even is a relationship?

an envelope you step in and out of

consent to a mutual reality

something to see by, to see through

I sit on the bench over the beach 

with a cigarette as heavy as the ocean

little girls or are they little seals 

bobbing in the surf

this doing nothing

is who we really are

I want to see the flowers the way I saw them

I want to see the people they way I saw them

I want to hear the celestial music

see the higher order again

be better for the people I love

make them better too

october 14

normal person  after

opening a book 

this morning

the better 

to

                tackle       an intra

personal  workload 

volunteer my brain

to compute progress

   

  a slow typist

I sms,

I need love

songs with doorbells

in   headphones

the drums sound

         

        across the street

spread the word

evenly,

my contacts

eating 

alone

we compare

and contrast

but it's just

this   big evening

zoya

an ultrasound on my 
un-pregnant belly
it's the closest thing 

to tlc, despite our
small tussle
tell me, I said,
is it normal? 

she said she couldn’t tell me
she said, enjoy your weekend,
you’re young

how come my reactions 
are scrolls
I frowned 
for like
1 minute
of silence

harvest moon

my heart breaks something like
in half to not be Home 
in October 

I feel like cardboard instead

for the 8th time 
in sensory hell

sunday the student

on the verge of dying for poetry

again, the boring exorcism of hiatus 

looking back at the word bank

all shy

B said some poems just

walk away! 

like children

*

J died 7 years ago, today

a dark autumn night in NY

the hill we climbed 

with the news

*

today is a triangle

with an exclamation point inside

J says

we can't ever do what we want to do

anymore, that's the new secret club

today I go, 

what is a 7 years

a bouquet?

some off lights

reflecting the sun

the triangle with 

the exclamation point

extends,

encrypted

*

last Yom Kippur

I went to services in SF

where I met an old friend 

and her young dad

it was early morning

and the city was

bright gold

later we wrote

what we didn't need

on scraps of paper and

put them in a clear vase of 

tap water

for atonement, 

I brainstorm some pools in the area

*

the blood thing

is really more 

about draining

 

I fainted in the 

process of 

playing cool

they pushed a Kiss 

into my mouth and

squeezed me and

low key 

reprimanded me

the bad quiz on loop 

I can't see my own eyes!

or bite my own teeth

Dear P

I've been so out of touch with myself,

like forgotten how to be curious about my mind...

but last night I slept long and dreamed about a place with cabins:

many divided, yet thematic households on the property

I was performing there, maybe some type of festival

I had some romance with a blank man who was hard to love, because he was blank

a big group of us went for a walk into the dark forest/mountains, on a sort of ridge

beneath us was a rushing river, it got darker and darker as we walked

I wondered if it was fire smoke but it was so easy to breath (mist)

shadowy figures (boys) effortlessly jumping off rocks into the river 

the sight of big, moving water almost brought me to tears

gay

habits are

           bad

           this week

I’m backhanding 
my forehead 

and 
thickening plots 

spying 

  on the
    plume’s return

carrying 

the annual 
    haunting of home

the sad memory
of water &
when she told me
to be like it 
[water]

we’re on the couch 
at the airport hotel
she’s soft, high

she saw heaven

and isn’t scared

for the living

acquired taste 

to the point 

of   no return 

you just

lay there by the juniper

deep 

in the practice of surrender/

while the moon

eclipses

lowercase fear

just like

Together

"we" cuz 

I'm getting bigger

*

if Longing

would shed itself 

like a snake and 

surprise me

...

a long river city 

whose architecture 

reps desire 

and at once 

resolve

her knee highs

her healthcare

...

ʎpɐǝʇs ʞɔoɹ

today the kids made tissue swords 

exerting themselves in the ash

the 3 of them, literary

windswept

the dust bowl

the cul de sac

the boudarylessness of
blessings, curses

talking fences/feeling

nothing       moderate, mega 

in lieu of     stretch in lieu of

cutting

the train assembles

poems slipping and 

sliding the dead friend

with the past tense name

just wanna be at the club

with the mosh pit the

mash up where 

at 3 am 

dystopia 

checks out

skywriting by jane pauley

I cry looking at photos of great grandma Sally

because she's got the eyes

the eyes that are 3000 years old

sitting on the deck with Dad

swarm of crows flying in synch 

vanishes into the fog

Grandma tells me about a time 

Mom painted herself green, put tinfoil 

on her head, and went to the bar

open field with a window

open field with a window

open field with no child

don't call it an episode 

I'm not your TV

my heart isn't actually inside me

it's where they all are

ambrette pipette

cool blue + tie dye = soft sky

looking up from the open box of Kayla's backyard

I see power lines and think sheet music

base + heart + head = the symphony of a perfume

the white planks of that balcony's railing are piano keys

dancing + apples = dappled

the bamboo is the wind section

the sun is soprano

soft sky + full = skull

the clean flat cement might be mezzo

and the wind chime is implied

alphabet soup

the night I sat on the balcony 

watching the moon cross the sky

Jamie’s ghost touched everything in the apartment

turned my pairs of shoes at perpendicular angles

propped up the sheep brain dissection kit

scooted out my desk chair

it was so subtle

I could have done it myself

what's the difference between 

hallucination and metaphor

seeing the story over the story

the world behind the world

I don't want to say too much

but something I can tell you now;

it's a lie 

that nothing rhymes with orange

the buddha quality

of a stuffed animal

how two dots and a line 

make a gracious face

I was sure he was in my bathroom

staring at that tum on the tile floor

and I realized how trauma 

is like schrodinger's cat

the keloided narratives that stay fucked up

for as long as the door is closed

I keep seeing a soft sky full of tiny letters 

like alphabet soup

and the afterimage of a cool blue fairy

pepper's ghost

and there's something extra 

we're elaborating on now

about washer women

gossips and yentas

about twins, togetherness

about the tree and the stone

being damned

the dry lightning storm 
to the north

the moon drama, up

the cold sand, cum
every August
at once

*

AIM apparition--

if it were,
the watering hole

The Wednesday

raised by 
ON, the TV
the basement 

*

rolling on the floor
after hours
for reasons 
the sidewalk
the gum spots
the moon

*

partial to the merch
of my coast
perennials 
garbage 

*

eating around the spinal chords

boundaries embodied 

or

synthetic fences

baguette-me-not

us Three Women 

stopped at the crosswalk

feeding each other bread 

as we walk home from the store

I do our laundry 

hang it up on the porch

it stays a little damp cos it rains all night

when folding I love guessing

who is whose

I note that 

C has always had powerful socks

and K has lots of bleachy items

but I also get some smaller items wrong 

which I also love

when I close my eyes

theres [enough!] looped beats

    I’m doing flips 

at those Philadelphia 

gas stations

round and

    round wall of virus

full body/august

when I close my eyes

theres love, reasons

Coffee 

Drama

drank a cup of 

pre-covid, filled with 

The Cafe

a bottle of wine

history up thru 

my feet

poetry 

    propped

my phone 

redeemed

Home (the feeling)

in my blood like 

the s's 

in east coast

counting our exclusive

evenings of

the shortest summer ever 

if summer means together

the garden flowers on our dinner

beep eyes

how to keep mapping

all the very relative 
and slippery truths in this world

with a mind/heart like a ball

that rolls down certain slopes

no matter where I set it

bouncing off into the negative space
of conversations
and getting stuck there

in a dream smoking a fake cigarette
on a beach with punks
the roiling waves throw
huge green catfish onto the shore
some just missing us
slamming down dramatically

then a restaurant with radios on every table
that announce how close the holy spirit is
by degrees of latitude and longitude
when it gets within a certain range
everyone scrambles to reign in their sinful behavior

I’ve lost my appetite for complexity
as well as for breakfast
feels like there’s no time for theories
despite tomorrow
tomorrow
tomorrow
and tomorrow

who has acid

tomorrow is unclean

and I’m overcome

by “chance” by was 

by with

this week’s desire 

for alt punctuation

a sloppy/bold shape or

deep negative space 

or

one of these summer nights

unhinged

w/ touch

*********

I consider addiction

I dream of jail support

the vibe now is 

dead flowers

something has happened 

to dreaming 

like a blackout curtain

my hair grays in 2 streaks

I waste today in the shape 

      of a        dramatic bridge

approach addicted 

like dreams

drain 

my own bad balloon

its happy

hot air

drunk p

resort to play 

in L shapes 

towards      night love

full bottle and shirt bib the war 

on sub sis tence

the L as min imum

in lieu of 

the unfolding palace

sick of, hell

incomplete 

for fun

prompt

the way tomorrows stay clean

this inside trick 

a clean bone over and—

when my heart clicked

with the rest of me

a big dance hole

a rare deja-vu

the rest of me 

in assembly 

knowing

weakly

possessing Know

tomorrow, our virgin 

an essential skeleton

I'll translate

rounding the corner

under a gray sky

as/if

no one cares

about my excitement

pinning the tail 

on the decoy

the "rest of me"

rehearsing

the end

** ***********