Tuesday, August 14, 2018

the beach is always my favorite place no matter what

the girls at the beach
all have blankets of hair
the same brown blanket
brushed and flopping
looks hot in both ways
blanketing their same
outfits of shoulderless
puffs and sporty thong
bottoms I stare at their butts
in disbelief forgetting they’re 16
they play volley-ball with a
foreign gusto, shrieky games
of capture and chase
flirt through braces
spitting ice cream, I remember
Though I was never
closer than this

no one envies me with this haircut
no one wishes they looked how I did
I hear the blanket girls think:
I would never cut my hair because, obviously
I am a blanket girl
brushed and flopping
and obviously I am hot
In both ways

I wanna know if they’re saying
the same stuff that they say
at the Jersey shore like shut
the fuck up when a scrawny
boy has you above his head
are you really squeaking fuck you
in your thong in the town center?
are you really
constantly yelling
I also want to say shut the fuck up
and just wait for life
but also
I want to be them all too
to be so taught on display
calling attention to such
smooth, blank skin
no one envies my shorts my
slapdash tomboy beachwear
and I’m free
bleeding because I can’t deal
don’t mind me just walking
up the stones in my wet, red shorts
I’m just planting seeds
filling up and blowing every dollar
to be elsewhere

on the 3rd day I search for the girl
in the red bathing suit because
she’s the best one and actually
the only I imagine when I imagine
the blanket girls at large this one
has heavy chains around her neck
and also braces so she literally shines
seemingly aware of her figure in space
the tourist teens pale in comparison
as if they have happened upon their
bodies by mistake standing at the edge
of the water like they’re waiting for
something cool to happen to while
they talk but mostly look around
and adjust their suits and I get hit 
in the head with a soccer ball
and decide to leave the beach since
the shadows are long anyway and
the sand blows in stinging swirls

Monday, August 13, 2018

Kesey 4


the dream with the amulets
sewn into the gossamer underwear
for sale at the thrift store
plastic cracker jack rings and
colorful charms we were touching
all of the underwear like it was good luck

when we went to his house
Babbs said anytime you're 
thinking about something 
you're angry about or someone 
you're mad at just stop and think 
about the time you were climbing
up that mountain and the stream 
opened up and you were able
to walk into a cave and in the
cave was a fish and the fish 
opened up his mouth and said 
can you dig it?

what does it mean to be woken up
by hundreds of birds trying to get
into your bedroom?
fluttering against the eaves of
my corner room with
two walls of windows
the sound was like pebbles or a
wooden xylophone a frenzy
in the gold morning light
one sat on the sill needling
its beak into the screen
what's going on birdies what 
do you want?

Babbs wanted to say something
about happiness but his
younger wife cut him off
embarrassed or maybe just
bored with his speeches
but he started to say something
about how you have to try to
really dig your life
really dig your life and I'm not
talking about with drugs or
alcohol or anything but to 
really be partying everyday

Monday, August 6, 2018

Kesey 3

in this peace place 
sitting on the ornate green couch
by the front windows of the barn
impossible how quiet
how the leaves on the poplars
shimmer wildly but no sound
like a movie

a dip in the Willamette 
as the shadows are getting long
the sun through the trees 
over our right shoulders
the river is so swift
shimmering and quiet too 
I see J look up from his drawing
at the sun’s etchy reflection
everyone knows we are in a movie

in the back of the pickup 
in the dark field to see the stars
tailights make the field red
What would our movie be called?
Stand By Us?
Stand By We?

mood song

so done
at the botanical garden
sitting on every bench
green shadows and
garbage cans
for some reason I see those best
I'm looking for
recycling bins
I'm looking for somewhere
cool and breezy
trying to get what I can
from this visit maybe

woman in "good mood" shirt
and Chanel belt buckle --

I wanna go home and
see a friend, wanna
lay in someone's lap
been hallucinating friends
on the street everyone
is almost someone

--good mood
is wrangling her children
in the greenhouse
for photos, almost
pushed her daughter
into the creek now
parked in front
of me at this bench

I have become hateful
trying to rethink the idea
of capacity, more than full
in more ways than one


the profound relief of sunset

my new white pants glow
it's all even and airbrushed
the moods, I think
where are the chaperones
everyone playing in the park
with bottles and so I soften
towards the people
towards the city
and onwards

you know what I mean?
when your eyes can be fully wide
and everyone is kind of tan
it's the softest thing
there's even sand
full of cigarettes and ants--

I wish I didn't dread the
familiarity that I also long for
dread the context of
this planet at large but
right now the light because
then what,

--some leftover gray meat
in sauce, something German,
pizza, anarchy
the moon bright like my pants
smoke and tents and carriages
without babies
big blonde babies and others
in dirty carriages
bright frisbees like the moon
everyone in their groups