Saturday, July 27, 2019


Choose Writing vs Choose Reading

neighborhood this morning smelled like 
mowed lawns and goose poop
childhood Lake Merritt park smell 
the cork trees and the grass maze
feel the gritty sand of the playground
on the cement wall where you feed the birds
shoes on that texture, hands on that
the rotary nature center
dimly lit ever cool sanctuary 
the thrill of visiting the bees
with their little tunnel to outside
putting your ear to the humming plastic 

bus to NY again 
guided meditation for birthdays and renewal?
guided meditation for I just quit my job?
phone phone phone
song about community 
song about technology and magic
song about I will never know enough 
the beautiful marshlands of New Jersey 
song about an orange windsock
song about a rusty bridge 

mental block against whimsical writing 
in this precipice hurting world
buzzing like an indoor-outdoor bee
on Wednesday I rescued a bee 
from the hot sun gravel in the 
courtyard of the Rodin museum 
put him in the shade with a leaf

little top-heavy bus in the sky 
overpass above a leafy gorge
precipice indeed
to be a snail
to be a bee
to be a butterfly 
a pollinator practice 
grandpa calls on my birthday
and we talk about global warming 

he says 
service is what it’s all about 
grandpa as the Cal bear
he said he’d send me a video of the waterfall he built 
so I can watch it and meditate 
I asked if he does that sometimes 
he said
No, no... I don’t do that 

Wednesday, July 24, 2019


when desire is laid on you
like a hot stone
the heat could fade
but I ask it to stay

I want the fresh produce
the thunderstorm

but who am I
all of us
of course

did you know this, sign,
was going away?

I think of Going Away
it's childish,

I'm drinking wine this afternoon
but don't worry about me

when a crush is laid --

it's like that
you know a video
of a textural layer
being spread
but laid
two hands at
two corners

I still walk to
the sweet hole
in the concrete river
slanted and stained

the function of truth
in poetry

the trickle of green slime

that's not what it is!
(share this with the kids)

it's a little bit of sad water

I got some good
out of pizza
as I pass the rock labyrinth
I think its the opposite
I got free drinks

at the end of the day

I want to be entertained

to live for solitude
under the sun
how does one
end a night too hot
to sleep

too drunk to read
cold shower
all of it

I wanna lay the fuck down
and submit
to another energy
some say movie
it's just
tediously sexy
to be this temp
this tan

an earthquake but
fully upside down
and we fall off the surface
don't come at me

in bed w/
the ice bandana

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Schemer 1

think of borrowing

it's not my house

the shiny toys
the soft cat
the hot night

have I lost something?

my friends
right here

cameras in the corners
capture naughty
broken glass and
just bad

the summer becomes
a bloody sheet
a four-corned

a bullfight
a somersault

the blood as
a sort of

a personalized
a shell

the clock
like soft
all night
another time

if you're not helping
I don't care
about you

have I
lost something

the smoke alarm
the pink bench
are warm to me

so often

use pleasure
to sedate

I'm sweaty
in a fantasy

and bigger