Friday, February 09, 2018

ashes of goodness

in retrospect, the fire was quick
brawled through the swinging doors
up the stairs devoured inside out
now all that;s left is cold comfort and you


Sunday, February 04, 2018

the prompt is change

the sheet is heavy as rain
falls on the recently left bed
imprecise budgee flight, lucky
if the proper finished side
gets to the head. it's not a thing
with me. short stitch, long stitch
there are rules that don't have to be
followed. outside a storm, replete
with lightning flashing through
the open windows.

all last week on my way to work and
  driving around at lunch a turkey buzzard
flew in the sky, not looking for kill
specifically, just soaring, alone in a draft
feathers spread to grasp ripples, holding
its place, circling slowly away
or meeting me at an intersection only
vultures know.

in the evening if i leave work early enough
i get to see  high winter clouds pinking
in a carribean sky that doesn't belong here.
there is line of crows flying north
to south . if i get home early
enough i can watch the last of them
trailing and squawking and biting at each other
flying by like a line of music in the fading light.
i always wonder where they roost
what shelter can hold a three mile long
flock of crows looking, like the guy
on the corner of memorial and 580
for a bit of change.









Sunday, January 07, 2018

the prompt is shoes

and this is why i don't write well for prompts
because i all i can think of is i don't like wearing them
i grew up in florida in the sixties where shoes were
optional, except church, school and seven eleven.
even now i freak out my illinois born honey
going barefoot about the house his feet
feel all the grit but to me, it's just peach fuzz.
and why search for shoes
  just to go outside to
empty the trash? if it rains,
 and it rains here a lot
i'll take my wet feet over  wet shoes
and socks anyday.
a paper towel and feet  are a/c ready/.
 god i hate bathrooms with air dry.
in florida, flip flops-though not officially shoes-
will   apparently do
a lot of people agree because they're
 now approved footwear for  highschoolers
it's funny i feel this way and yet bad
mouth my daughter because until
this past fall, she had not bought
her daughter a single pair askin me
what size  to get when she finally
got a job so she could get her
more than flip flops and bare feet
which is not much less than what i
wore growing up and yeah  i had a case
of ringworm or two and cut the fuck
outta my toe one time playing in
flooded gutters in the rain and just cuz
  i don't like em don't mean
i don't own a pair or two but i still wear
boots- not official shoes- when it gets
cold, because i get claustrophobia
after a few hours my feet are smothered
burning, begging to be released
  that's when i know my feet were bound
  in a former chinese life
the young  bones folded in half, wrapped
in cloth strips molded for a shoe the hieght
of fashion, attention called to rounded
instep, the mincing, wincing gait
as i cross the floor with a pot of tea

so you can keep the stillettos and the
stripper shoes for the short girls who need
the extra inches, i made sure this time around
i didn't have to put my feet into trauma
though that's the only drama i've avoided thus far.
liv le nar

Friday, January 05, 2018

i wrote a poem for my pocket and lost it in my bra

i just remembered it's the fifth, rent's due
we got so many illegal people moving in
we gotta pay on time. i'm in my jammies baby
will you drop it off. you found your checkbook yet?

i dunno got a bit of exasperation with the daughter
who wanna move but wanna make me make it all right
beause she preggers but i don't care. she want it
she better get used to it. oh you're on the phone
and it's gonna freeze tonight i gotta get the flowers
and strawberry plants in. and the step who wanna

move in a month early and do't unnrestand sharing
exaclty. and  i gotta get  the needles to ease this tension
from my back

Sunday, December 31, 2017

corporate new year brought to you by fireworks

the afternoon smoke in a warm double papasan
sheer white curtains protect from prying
even though voices were raised  before she left

it's a hard thing, this idea of choice, to honor
 the wishes of the bearer.the woman who will
or not.  plenty of love, she said. is that what it is?

one can hope. she doesn't know what a curse  that is,
 she wants the sting of the evening. fiddle  full of ants.
.the poem in the promise.magic.

strains of a sweet brazilian song drift from across
the backyard.  couple trailers over a pig's roasting
the smell marches down the street singing mariachis

she left to pick up the new babysitter. her eight year old
daughter is going to surprise someone. perhaps herself
.firecrackers begin , popping penecnes.

 there is a party on the other side of the fence bordering
the concrete slab where you can skate or ride bikes. they  play
salsa and rhumba., tango up to the minute. count down

in espanol .when midnight comes the sky explodes
a war zone, a mass shooting rings in the night, comes
from all directions. over head the spinning lights shower

and fade. in the distance huge algael blooms fire briefly
in oak tree branches, bearing mythical fruits. will ok then
will makes it so. rationality's only a rope to hang yourself with.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

if jones can win alabama then maybe hope is possible

but my gods want me to lose it.

so they met moons ago then reconnected.
they've been taking it slow, except in bed.
he's got six kids. he tells her pays child support.
i have no reason to disbelieve her
but another kid in mix is asking a lot of the universe.

she likes the way his parents are still together
and don't fight, unlike all her role models.
he's got a job and a motorcycle just over a year
after being on the streets. she's finally tired of begin poor
and got a job. got a job and doing well.

how would a new infant mix this up?
we can think of the ways. but how would it
confirm the progress they've made, individually
collectively and as a couple.

it sure will push things to a new role for everyone.
new living situation, new problems, new discoveries.
i dunno. i couldn't do it. but since she's had both
abortion and child, she understands which is more difficult
for her. security is not that important to her, i guess.
life is. i'd be scared to death, but i guess if she can even
contemplate this, she's so much braver than i. so
fuck you gods, i will hope for her. i can't lose that
no matter how many times i'm tested.

Monday, November 06, 2017

prophetic wishes

when i was a young feminist
coming up out of the jim crow south
where working moms made pin money
and bussing was the racism of the day
stitched all together into a justification quilt
for the way things are, i wanted language
changed. mankind was the word for human kinds
all pronouns meaning we were he's and his
was the badge of ownership. i recognised
but only vaguely the valuelessness of ironing
yet mama did it after the dishes when she
got home from her shift at sears

i wanted to iron out gender bias, changing he to her
sometimes, sub in the fem when the lines got fuzzy
but now i've got reality that exceeds those dim dreams.
gender fluidity in the flesh requires a new lexicon
zhers and zhes mix with hers and hes but i'm still not sure
what cis stands for or what other non hetero norm
nicknames are. even tranny seems to have taken
a sideswipe at meaning, with -vestites and -sexuals
claiming the label for theirs, with drastically
differing defining characteristics and i'm not sure
if it's a badge or honor or an insult.

i don't think that's what most of us meant
when we said a woman without a man is like a fish
without a bicycle. i am attracted to men,but i don't
like them. they're selfish and self centered
don't have a lot of emotional maturity
and think with and about  their penises way too often
to be trusted with something like a nuclear bomb.

and the game women were forced to play
still are yeah
a li'l tna will get ya what you're looking for
you know, the valiant whore role
well it's just so limiting.
the old hollywood saw goes
she can't act her way out of a paper bag
but she can suck the chrome offa tailpipe==
and we all knew what kind of tail was getting piped....
i think that's why i don"t think big lipped women
can act, because they don't have to...



i mean we all just wanted a chance to do
something besides wash dishes, hair and children
something other than sexetary or go girl
something bigger than sending them off to school
and cocktails with the bridge club at three
something more than nurse or teacher,
more like md or phd, yea we wanted initials
other than mrs john x, losing even first
names in the mirror of wives,we wanted out
of those  limited lives,


but you know what. it's good to be woke n stuff
but the pc police don't got it right either,
tolerance is not the objective
acceptance is. yeah he's a racist pig
but it's  free country so he can spout a dirty joke
without gettin beat up please.
yeah, he's a womanizer with no respect
but consent, well, let's just say it's only
a formality anyway. mckinnon once famously said
all sex is rape because what she means is that
chattle can't say no, they can only say, at last,
yes. gave way, out the gate.


when i was young feminist
fucking anyway i please was the vanguard
of the liberation.. we were allowed to own
sexuality, unlike what i see today where it's
stigmatized. we were allowed to get drunk
and go home with that guy and not made to feel
violated the next morning. the walk of shame
was an 80's thing, after aids came to bed
with america. then sex had to be controlled again.
and anyway, we were never not sluts. so i'm down
with the slut walks, i'm down with the pink punk
hair and tongue studs, the moans of swipeing left
or right, the chance to pick up for the night
babylon had sex temples that all must serve
and the fuits of coitus were given to the temple.
i mean, the baptists could use some of that
kind of recruitment fodder.

amyway. it's weird.like i helped dream it
and it became a demi nightmare, wearing
a teddy and combats to bed.