Monday, June 1, 2020

my daughter



she was beautiful and appeared
between may 30 and 31
I was eager to show her off
my life was exactly as is
mundane corners, skin
raging, stuck here

she had blue eyes (?)
for a moment but
mostly, she belonged to no one
she shape shifted 
and I could only 
think of her

at a thrift store 
I bought her tiny doc martens
with bells, for Christmas
shopping for my daughter
just me in my body

I hoped that when she grew up
she would never feel the need
to lie about what I gave her
or did for her

I woke with her around, real

our broken hearts

being our own 
daughters

hold her close
in the streets



Saturday, May 30, 2020

bzzz

my stomach turns
a question soup
how to drive off the tyrant
who lives in there

how to understand
size / scale
the sun bleached dollhouses
around the neighborhood

giants gripping
magnifying glasses overhead
and the streets have finally
burst into flames

how to really
stay with each other
drive off the tyrants
in all of us



Friday, May 29, 2020

young summer


the day cleared up too fast
rain's permission gone
for god knows

at a loss with desire
drunk with loud birds again/still

didn't set up the day
for release

casually possessed,
I turn on the piano from
the beginning
of this mess

I think of him when
scooping the chocolate chips
and when I shout at the squirrel
climbing up through
the bottom of my car

unearthing interest/
intrigue

made it all the way
to the beach on
one feeling
scootering on the grass
pretending

the trees are all purple
please love me

doing the washing
to be with cool water


Thursday, May 28, 2020

,,pleurer,,pleuvoir,,

the old destinations
in the neighborhood
the shut down restaurant
where we all worked
seem silly, dramatic like
ancient ruins
the sleeping windows
summer humidity
rounding off the edges
quiet streets
lights changing for no one
crossing diagonal
soft warm rain
the way the air feels
on my thin dress
bare legs
thin shoes on the sidewalk
pregnant with nostalgia
for something that wasn't
I laugh about
feeling so motherly
towards the nothing

Lakeside Park

when we had supervised visits with mom
we would meet at this depressing daycare
on Grand Ave
we would all sit on the floor together
one of those rugs with roads and street signs
it smelled like old french fries
I don’t remember what we talked about
we would play Mario Kart
there were other sad kids and parents
sticky beanbag chairs
after a certain number of visits
we were allowed to go for walks
we would go to Coffee with a Beat
I always got a poppyseed bagel with butter
I don’t remember what we talked about

Monday, May 25, 2020

square 1a


slowly drawing diamonds
(and their shadows)
coming to something like
a clearing, or at least believing
there will be one, eventually

traveling with the big song that cuts

when love can be the glint again
always right here
on my table

I observe with narrowed eyes
this glint, or whatever
the birds/sun

shoulders slumped
over love
the hot potato
swallow sharing
even
hide from god

still down to
change your mind
while I revisit
what I make
as love



Sunday, May 24, 2020

fluid mosaic model

wonder if the bathroom mirror
stores these bad vibes in it

my laptop's weird pulse
pretty church bells for noon

I read only 1% of our genetic material is unique
and think fuck the 1%

I miss the 57 bus
(longingly not literally)

Kayla said the days feel long with all my longing
I never acknowledged the length in that word

feel wrung out
like after swimming

I miss the overpass walkway
with the spiral ramps

walking over 580
the sound of the ocean

it curves behind Lakeview elementary
always felt like a cool secret

I miss Morcom rose garden
a random pocket in the neighborhood

the long fountain with low stair step pools
laying on the strip of grass

Saturday, May 23, 2020

4:36 am is the Tuesday of my 5-day sentence



in my juvie dream we ate busted versions
of summer foods
charred newspaper and
vanilla ice cream
in the shapes of cherries

the items were distributed
unequally

Mary was there for one day

would I get phone privileges

to keep up communication

*

a reproduction of our scene
spread like butter on the inside
of my forehead

it could seep out, or
it's a drive in movie

*

headlines,
on a rare cloudy cloudy morning




Wednesday, May 20, 2020

atoms & evening

as an analogy, think 
of a football stadium:
the entire stadium is 
the atom, a marble at 
its center is its nucleus, 
and the specks of pollen 
floating around in the 
stadium are its electrons-
everything except the 
marble and the pollen 
grains is just empty 
space

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

remember that we are not descended from fearful men

the textbook describes
  serous membranes
    as similar to
beanbag chairs
and shows the heart
      sitting comfortably
  truly, like
we're just full
    of packing materials
I remember how
      the ancient Egyptians
preparing a mummy
     would put all the organs
   in separate jars
except the heart
      which Anubis weighed
against a feather
   to calculate
    the price of postage
for the long
    journey
to the underworld
    I bottle mine
send it
    downstream
a correspondence
   a tiny boat pulled
towards Nut's mouth
   as she swallows the sun
to be reborn
   tomorrow

Monday, May 18, 2020

many many suns


to immerse myself in the natural world
I don't even know, just
got emo re: ancestors

never even thought of how
I go back through others
because I don't believe it

today I don't believe
one single thing
that has ever happened

*

woke up from a jail about dream

I went to pick out my cell
the staff was pretty nice
with their keys

I saw the corners
where they stash
the tragedy

a gymnasium
a means to an end

*

watching the mess grow back, defeated

*

the moon out the window behind me
I guess summer feels like life which
I love

I'll do what? until the moon's out of sight

the motorcycle on the grass is
sleeping cat

*

finally slept those extra minutes
on my stomach, the blood
pooling I could
taste it in my mouth

*

the interpretation police
subjective blackmail
this insane fantasy

*

full moon is actually today
and I don't want to choose
anything over party

resist attention but
xoxo

tomorrow I'm post
anything

*

dream at big dining table

*

we assembled his grill
and made ribs

I'm breaking out

the bamboo makes a sound

*

watching the nightfall
with puffy clouds
one like a dick
brief neighbor fantasy

I can hardly see the page

I love picking the mint

more $ than work
where was it before

*

ride bike to dry
mothers day tears

L called me with
the neon crests

the ferris wheel is so us

*

something like the sound
of horse hooves outside

spent the night together
in my dreams, was scifi
and easy

*

thought about meeting people in PCH traffic

invigorating to see some water damage

*

how psychic am I
in the dream I knew
we were on the same side

*

those nights when
morning feels like
one minute ago
the bed unmade,
just a sharp
arrow to drunk

*

fantasy as main event
tired for fruit
woke with weird hair
lawn mower
strong gin
cucumber as
puppet

*

beach dream with
big hurricane

the cat eats cat grass

my heart races in
review

I eat papaya
the enzymes on my mom's counter

*

the urgency of dusk has me
skipping steps
puzzled by my own drafts

a certain safety in waiting (a circle)

*

bleach sky
grows dark
while I'm looking down
just feel like
publishing

*

a stray pokeball
in the shade of a cactus



Sunday, May 17, 2020

the new dirty


no traceable thread
for bad stomach
braiding over 
projection
astrally speaking
from the very top 
of my head
humming
brimming
in company 

using only the breath in my brain
if we're moving up from the bottom
from the earth

see my plant theory
for disconnection
googling their names

I've been electrocuted
I've bled from my nose
on the curb in Florida
with dad, his no-faced
bad knees

trans-gen phantoms
in the pool

more later




Saturday, May 16, 2020

Illustrious Cobweb

a mom/dad/god wind chime
an iris that is also
the 4 chambers of the heart

a cycle of abuse
a ground zero
an ascension

it's like these things 
are falling off a shelf 
and shattering in my mind

a castle/fortress
a river fixation
a deep and a shallow

a friend
a sister
a teacher






`~.'*






playing a youtube video on my phone
filmed in a field with bird sounds and wind

while standing really in a field
with real bird sounds and wind

the layers synch up like
eternity

soccer field mud smell
beer cans glinting
under the bleachers

Friday, May 15, 2020

bonne maman

6:05 am sun
caught in our room 
wet beams/orange bricks 
textured shadows
flat envelopes
glass dust light
the alley

my mind spoons out a map
of my grade school's playground
like apricot jam
and I fall back asleep

dream a party
where I'm dressed as
partly cloudy
my face painted
dappled blue and white

when I wake up again
the sun is higher, normal
making starburst patterns on the bricks
the windows bubble like
fish eye lenses

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Gel Venture 7 Carrier Grey / Violet Blush vs. Gel Contend 6D

the bank's robot recites a beautiful poem
that goes

D as in Delicious
  K as in Kindness
7
 W as in Water
I as in Impossible
 3

I press the pound key
to make her repeat it
thrice

Grandma R asks for my address
I start to tell her and she says

no mija
I want it in writing
mail me a card 

I ask for her address
to mail the card
and she says

I don't know it
I never write to myself

grassy hill frag


I took myself
to the site of the fantasy
which is the park
next to the community garden
it's a grassy hill
I see a horse
one horse
I came here
to see what would happen
and because I'm free
the park where I imagine
us breaking all the rules
on site I'm turned on
by the hot wind
wearing the thinnest shirt
I have, it's silk
an ancient blessing
the reality is
that the site of the fantasy
is relatively crowded
the wanderer who
keeps dropping down
close by, the dad
and his kids who arrived
with energy, ready
to retrieve something from a tree
I hate nothing more
than this kind of task
moving things around
transferring an object
from one place to another
2 horses now
a dead crow (shredded)
sticking out of the grass like
halloween or shark fin soup
I'm sure the dad saw
the shape of my boobs perfectly
because it's the thinnest shirt ever
hunching forward now
for the wanderer

the way the sun comes through
my eyelids, the sun comes in
and the wind passes by

I reject outward worship but
do it (the sun, wind)

to snap out of unfounded
love, eventually

coming home to pee

how the sun hits each leaf
like food coloring
each leaf like
a candle wick


Monday, May 11, 2020

and tonight


drove up the PCH
with sunset
u-turned after
Pepperdine

thought about sex and cried
everything that's wrong
all the cones etc.
the sleeping, spinning lights

thought of all the times
I've done this drive
in groups
with wet clothes

I got out at Venice
the wide, unwelcoming shore
now dark and busy

I saw the plankton glowing
in the crests of the waves
me and everybody else

I saw the heart on the ferris wheel
and the heart reflected in the runoff

once I got so high at this beach
that I drove away with
my wallet on top of the car
it had $300 cash inside
the only money to my name
working for the street artist
at the Chateau Marmont
we made these show posters
with dream lineups but
the vinyl stickers came fucked up
people got seriously on the phone about it
in French, shouting "Bod Dylan"

there's a photo of me and Ty
with T and K stickers on our foreheads

the wallet stayed on my car because
the roof rack



Saturday, May 9, 2020

Friday, May 8, 2020

5 (the hypnotist) and 8


undone by the hypnotist
her hostage
she said she only
hypnotizes herself

but when my brain
aches I eat walnuts
resembling brains

I'm undone because
your kaleidoscope

---

offended by our neighbor
who we call Jeff
letting me know
our flowers are
dying

cancelled but surveilled

a bigger strip of dirt/
the idea of being enough

healing, my friend says to
her daughter, you're healthy
cut, her daughter keeps saying
scab, my friend says, healing



re-opening

covid world is bruised
I cry at all times of day

everything is
what trickles in through the screen

square after square shows
Ahmaud Arbery

flowers spill on the sidewalks
raindrops temper our sleeping

and America murders
like a phone off the hook

Thursday, May 7, 2020

A Laughable Party

Liverpoor? Sot a bit of it! His braynes coolt parritch, his pelt nassy, his heart's adrone, his bluidstreams acrawl, his puff but a piff, his extremities extremely so: Fengless, Pawmbroke, Chilblaimend and Baldowl. Humph is in his doge. Words weigh no more to him than raindrips to Rethfernhim. Which we all like. Rain. When we sleep. Drops. But wait until our sleeping. Drain. Sdops.

Monday, May 4, 2020

Bigger Garden 4


caught making sense
line breaks open 
windows, world bubbles
between rose city and me
all toasted candy

earlier, I wrote some
bullshit I mean fiction 
about this time 
last year— yearning
when I took her to the bar
patience 
with dust

she stirs with songs
wakes up with the sun 
turning on like an oven

there are sprouts
better than my garden
along the garage walls

patience with
yesterday



turned on by
squishing letters
together 

touching on 
attention
as the only 
viable transition


Sunday, May 3, 2020

Spilltears Rue

the irony of mom
quarantined in a town called
"Truth or Consequences"
while she faces neither

the plastic dollhouse
in the bent tall grass
sunsetting through it
pink and yellow

birds swarming pastel froot loops
scattered on the sidewalk
dream of collecting a rattlesnake's venom
to poison the landlord

with me


intention today is
to be like that huge, 
obscene rose

I don’t remember
discussing the balsamic moon
but you said so

to feign synchronicity
w/ data suggesting 
my going off
spiritually

I still really,
really love you
singing all these
big deals, I really
hope upward

my control panel, wet
dream of a ballad

was it stardom?
was it vulnerable
applause 

I love, earlier I thought
I love
an idea like
your regular pillow
tomorrow
I’m still 
the obscene rose
the omniscient intention
to have everyone be 
in really, really
still love 

Saturday, May 2, 2020

hestia


night notes

at 2 am I turn out the light
and my body vanishes
my mind is an ember
dim, pulsing

I'm solving, searching
the 1,2,3 of it
percolating a theory
about the beginning
the adamneve of it

I jumble all I've learned
I don't want to be touched
an ember on the pillow
I roll it around
the imperialist core
the bad apple

my bitter neighbor
the relentless wind
I revise my diary
vanity's scribblings

a man's voice floats
up from the park
singing, raving
he's all around us
reverberating in the alley

I register him as a part of me
roaming, reeling
then resting a while
on may day, a diagram
of relationships
extraction and empire

I'm certain
I've learned something
but I wake up
at the beginning

seeking a sunspot
to turn to stone in
a river to merge with
a tree to grow
around me

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

dashing

some kind of sword
to fall upon
feeling hyphy
like a rag doll
or a tumbleweed

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

you you and you


new pen in the sun
besides, the sun
is the best artist
so, really you
and I
ate some cake
today the sun
is uplifting, loud

I hope it's the cake
and not the unprotection

my whole life
I kept my mess in check
just haven't made one
that time she said
you don't have to clean up
and I wept

you might
know who you are

***

I recorded a dream
in emergency red pen
on the back of my flash
dad's torso covered in
ratchet acrostics
I envied them
he wore a towel
and behaved like a fly
when I came with my case
buzz jumping
shape shifting

****

that day we sat around
drinking coffee in the esun
as if cute, rare

you sweating in
NY clothes
good to boil a little
I thought missing
you a lil



Monday, April 27, 2020

state and rev

Society, which will reorganize production on the basis of a free and equal association of producers, will put the whole machinery of state where it will then belong: into a museum of antiquities, by the side of the spinning wheel and the bronze axe.

Sunday, April 26, 2020

thing theory

did I make this void?

all I wanted was more time
to read
to vanish

anatomy
a jump rope
sex in 3rd person

my mind goes walking
down to Jennifer Grocery

the vinyl siding
fabuloso and campbell's cans floating
through a digital window

we’re nothing 
but the effect we have on others
or rather
a collection of effects

did I make this?
parallel U

did I make this
phone call
to my soul?

echoes in a well
graffiti dancing on the surface
of the digital window

I get choked up
corresponding with my spirit
thinking about who
my spirit corresponds to

did my mind make you?
and yours made me?

Kayla in her digital window
flat and solid
we talk till it turns
from blue to black

Mary


I told her I was writing about walls

how I felt strong earlier
now that I think about it

what about reporting/
with the language I wash

the claw that won't
get the toy

reporting what really
happened were
shifts in focus

see strangers
draw the globe
and another

she calls me from the tenants union

this is she, I say, I'm stoned, Mary, we laugh
we always laugh
reporting--
on monkdom
the collective weight
of internalists
draw another globe
for example

look who just showed up at setting


Saturday, April 25, 2020

don't sit down to write a poem but I want to


I must say, summer
is here like the rain 
was 100%
long everything
dear April's 
ending

open window night
cold shower
cold noodle
dead phone
your cold
part like
thorn

how many
principle contradictions?

who is...your?

try variety but
no other song
cuts it like 
there are times!
when I look above! 
and beyond!


Wednesday, April 22, 2020

bow out

coffee becomes wine becomes coffee
and the wind is haunted

blowing the sun just out of reach again
chase it like a hat flown off

what would be groovy and liberatory 
for a person to read?

what’s a projection
and what’s solid?

what am I taking for granted as permanent?

there’s lots of different kinds
of “two kinds of people in this world”

and you can suck on the hard candy
of an “always” or a “never”

but I prefer the softness of a noun
“pocketbook” is like
a saltwater taffy

it can hold the whole day
zipped in a deep corner

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

lotta lawbreakers


poem today
is breaking
grooving
light like
keypad
fantasia
see below
for between

the night upon me like
a fucking weight
conjuring ambiance
with a song [an ad]
one plate of dinner
her fork clinks
outside,
hold on

I'm back
from the last blue
now it's just night
which goes on

I want my body
to do the talking
 unbutton top
 lids at half mast
the shadows of
how my hair sits

the cashier said
do you also 
have a love 
for baggy clothes?
I said what
because her
plastic shield
baggy clothes,
they are so
peaceful

the rhythm exists
between longing and
the song, or
like Mary said
between the house
and everything else

writing in the margins
of can't hear myself think

Monday, April 20, 2020

till we're all free


a licorice night
shiny windows

my soul slips out
lingers by the river

drawing thick lines
with toxic ink

the fumes, the flute, my soul
slips out

I tie it first to my waste
it slides down to my ankles

wet and shaped like
a comma

sew it to my foot
like wendy

how to write a song
with the texture of wind

ride a note sidesaddle
into a candy story

licorice night
shiny windows

Sunday, April 19, 2020

home is the head

westerns are a language
I’m not fluent in

but I want to go back
stand in the middle
of a dusty main street

we all want to be a child again
even the worst of us
perhaps the worst most of all

two pale yellow scorpions
writhing in red ants

in the books we'll say
the time before Covid
and the big question mark
following

there were clothes on the line
there was the smell of the basement
there was affirmation
in our joblessness

there was screen poisoning
and time travel
to your childhood home

I don’t miss
the places I used to go
or the way I would go to them

gripping ambient worry
boring concern

I long to try
something I've never had

shedding a time
when the questions
were theoretical

Thursday, April 16, 2020

loose translation



I always leave the party so lucid
never drenched in it/who’s 
cleaning up
even my bulletin board is earnest

woke up from a big [party]
no memory but will write
it down on a paper 
towel, who’s 
cleaning—

to walk out on my mind
into the dirty world
free of consequence

starting to write
theoretically
starting to sprout
starting to be
an old, hourly way
this place at 1, 2, 3 pm
1a
 1b
  1c

starting to think, 
theoretically, about
how the cowboy said
never go to your room
in the daytime

the birdsongs
from the wings
the theater 
of the livelong day

the way its all moving 
the wind 
delivering

warbling the rosebush
petting my curtains
I’m blaming everything
on the wind today, everything!
its clinging outfit

I am the snowcap 
of mountain 1a

empathy measured
in obvious veins
the look of my bed 
[the stacked edge]
has me hungry for 
another character

I once played a lost boy
and now

my minds? been gone
a vagabond, she visits 

phone to feel party

as for the sun
it’s earlier across the street
working for them like
a good oven, in circles
I move my chair to chase it
they throw balls through its rays

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

vibes of my poems for translation


abyss of night, beauty infinity, alone

laughing to myself, sensory overload, in tune with nature really feeling one with the neighborhood, giggling

dream logic, weird, symbols, school? reading/connecting

sexy, freedom in lucid dream, kinda weightless, dgaf


observation, walking, checking on the neighborhood, playing games with one friend at night, secret 

just feelin poetry and living

epiphanies, tender to myself, memories, watery, spent

spiritually pissed, surrender, acceptance, peace with shit

yearning, horny, drugs, boy ego

drunk poet, 2nd part is about teaching in juvie, inside vs. outside, boundaries

sad, lamenting, mundane, turned on by mundane memories of places and things, remembering

also about teaching in juvie, feeling emotions in space, also inside/outside, being a grown up baby, basics

dream logic, confusion, yearning, cute, macro/micro

funny, sexy, word play like touching myself

heartbreak, history, time, pensive, still, literary

macro/micro, sexy play with words, fuck u kinda, feel like shit but having a tiny little fun with poem

heartbreak, body psychedelia, feeling stupid/little, yearning

dream obviously, unattainable, mysterious physicality, revealing things to myself, hide and seek, pissed, betrayed but calm

horny, fantasy, dream confusion, how can we all be better ---> poet alone

god mixed with sex, spiritually pissed, resentful, but I’m better lol

Monday, April 13, 2020

on losing ground


a sunlit, corporate terrace
the narrative dance
theater of
well,
sunlit
color

it's about translucency

she reads the book in her head
and we hear it

I roll this trick back
into the wings

I once played a lost boy
and now

supplement for longevity

an awkward party
unfolds on camera
his ques come from
the clouds are for
reading

looking for ecstacy
at the library

and I'm caught
and I'm done when
she's 100% summer



Sunday, April 12, 2020

Genie


my street is a party
walking towards the mountain
everyone’s home
the birds too
yelling at nightfall





woke up from   big
party/no memory
thought I should write it all out
on one of our brown paper towels
driving the big van 
in the   little garden

flooded with the gray reality of circles
(birds then  and now)

the other night of
heavy blankets
that old bedroom
but dank and wet
with pear dessert 
teabags 

clocking weird
pouring out
the closed window
my own heart beat
is too much
don’t know where
to put my hand

a star



the whole pretty 
hand thing 

again
and again


end of A world

On May 31st, 2019 I tripped
and skinned my palm

the local character who wears the
Santa Claus blazer told me
the world was ending

in 15 seconds, 15 seconds 
14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8... 

I see Santa Claus Blazer
out and about in Covid World
way more than I ever did before


lounging on the stoops
walking in the middle of the empty street
scarf draped, sounding off

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

dropping my book

call Grandma to
     open the door on dark
the desert mystery
  in her day they never ran out of equipment
    everything was reusable
now they use cheap plastic crap
   why'd they make that switch anyway?
we wouldn't be in this mess
   she had a shift running bedpans
and sharps through the autoclave
    I'd dip the gloves in germicide
and line them up on this rack 
  wrap up a bundle of thermometers and
shake them in disinfectant
    the metal hypodermic needles 
could be sanitized too 
   you filled them from vials 
with rubber stoppers

    she slips into a memory
of walking in on a fellow nurse
injecting morphine in the bathroom
     she had been refilling the vials 
with sterile water
     the hospital tried to cover it up
put her up in a room on another floor
    with a regimen to ween her off
I went in to administer her dose
   she had all the lights off and said 
"no no don't turn them on, just 
    use a flashlight or something"

the dark

then Uncle Henry
   sneaking out of the house
she drops the image of
   the open window
curtains blowing

d-a-r-k
d-a-r-k
dark
dark
dark

slides into another story
of Mom conning her out of some cash
a feast's worth of groceries
for a fake party
she slipped out to pick up
an imaginary implement
and didn't come back
5 o'clock
   6 o'clock
7 o'clock
  and she wasn't home
no guests either
 the sun was setting
I called the cops 
they couldn't do anything
but tell me there hadn't been
any accidents on the highway

d
  a
r
 k

in bed fading
after the chapter on Palestine
....apartheid... a convo......
our Palestinian boss at the restaurant
...sandy stone walls &Kayla
Passover
     the hanging gardens of Haifa
bombs over busses
dropping my book

a classic storm at midnight
cymbals crash in the alley
white light
then I'm in a wet city
  like New Orleans
where you ride an elevated train along the waterfront
called "Aldonius Avenue"
     painted tugboats and scrappy houses
bobbing
     heavy plaster columns
with decorative yellow and green dragons swirling up their trunks
    coming slanted out of the canal
fallen by design
    we ride to the southernmost tip of town
a ferry depot
   grand like an opera house in the mist

some summer 2014 (love letter)


MAKE WINDCHIMES
----> lol I move to Santa Cruz
and make windchimes

I feel afraid
because I miss the dark solitude
that gives my brain that space
am I doing the right thing
I miss New York
I miss lonely + Livia
and mom
and cold
I think

***

How to maintain the desire to write poetry?
More than one snippet
one flat, southern california snippet
cut from the cloth

I wonder when Livia will be home
I hope we can go to Saturn or something
I want a french fry
then a bar at midnight
it is sunday night

we collectively hate the restaurant called "burger."
all lower case with a period

sunday night what's up?
there is something at the catalyst but
I don't know who they are and I don't
feel like looking them up because
they don't look good

there are lots of good people in this world

watch out for the little skunk in the yard
when you're coming home Livia!
That would be too bad to get sprayed
with a skunk on the eve of your 21st

***

I had a dream that
I felt kind of scared and vulnerable
lots of people I knew
didn't want breakfast just yet etc.
she kept knocking hard on the door
and I knew she wanted to introduce me
to the boys I was to choose from
they were nearly jumping up and down
I don't remember how it went down but
it seemed like she got first dibs while
I was changing

***
July went so fast

***

I really hope my dad is ok

I want to do a poetry workshop

I think

I always have so much and also
nothing to say

    closer to home

I love to draw and
I have no let go of that

write
   cook
eat
 so simple

focus on that
plus exercise
and kindness

***

my summer friend (Allegra)
we were very organized
we had lots of small plans
and crushes to follow at night
drunk boys on bikes
putting my bike in the garage
in the thick quiet
going to my room feeling
spooked and cooped up
window wide open
feeling the hot blue
come into my nest
I miss that room
with all my heart

I wonder when Livia will drop
the book she was reading before
she fell asleep
maybe she will sleep this whole
night through holding it as delicately
as she is now

I am really feeling time
I want to pause for a while
I have some battery powered candles

I'm glad neither of us got jobs
I want poems to write

I want to do more
I am also so happy?
content just being right now