the bird as big mountain girl

i miss my faces scar
my masks and prankster day glo
tiger lily lights
everyting button down now bra
evryting diffrent

so you remember the electrik koolade asid test
yeah and the panhandling movie guide
who led you to the little cigar shack under palms
behind the railroad track on the alley facing the rail so that when
the SCR rolled into the last stop on the edge of nebraska
bus station 4 blocks down
the vintage wooden seats bolted
to the plywood stands rattle in sympathetic
chorus cutting into the pranksters' antix, kesey on the bus
in a pink tutu and duncan scarf wallowing in the wind
to the timpanic trumbling train, lickering up the screen
redolent with rubiyat
lapis lazul eyes, fingering
his dreads and the handful of quarters you laid
on him, yeah mon, you like dis movie
and off into the night, shifting his shoulder a bit umph
into the saucy sky. so you dug it.

hey just...what if they were right
i mean ok they were verged they were there on some knife
pasting art in a hippie dippie amerikan butterfly luvfest
and they got away with it for a while but it was so ott it had to crack
filter down, raining radioactively on the psyches of the next gen the x gen
and they grandbabies too. they had a truth. a groove. i remember
the night i was cold and big mountain girl closed the window==
and a look . then the night me n justin n jake playing
yatzi i'm trying for an inside straight and justin just touches
the dice each time i roll and i get what i need
no words it's like dilato sez, the synch is what we could get
goin we could but

the filter is too strong right now
button down bra.


but what if
if
you know
i'd really like to be there this summer
in the mountains.

i have a daydream about alternate love.
do you remember j when you tried to make the moves
on me. how you always wanted a black lesbian lover
but you used to write about falling in love as a child
the girls you crushed, the boyz you lusted
and i think of my j how he's so young
and i think a blended family with swapping all around
would be good for all of us. lol. no rally!
i mean wouldn't it be cool if we could all be in such
sync that we could minister to each other tantricly?
i think we have enough demon mastery to try it.

think about it. collapsable points of origin. you make
your own universe. i mean what i mean is this
we are very bogged down in possession. what is love
what does it mean to have it all. ah fuck
is this just a rationale for me to be able to fuck j.
probably. i am in heat. desire is a wicked li'l thang.

once u told me j shouldve gotten wit me. i wished it i feared it.
he needed you. still does. you needed him. i was not
strong enough to be with him. now i'm with this boy
and what is it that i want to do
get away? i am not strong enough to believe.
yet each day we stick our noses into each others eyes
and try to believe what we smell. he helps rid me of future.

this daydream is limned in vaseline. we are a thensome
and happy. our children learn about life thru the internet
and local soccer teams. there are elms and sycamores and in the vast
mountains beyond, the gleam of redwoods. we write.
each of us makes our living in the arts. we sweep and wash dishes
and google the division of fractions.we play music. we knit
and toss the yarn ball to the cat who is not declawed, but fixed.
the doxie curls like a favorite sausage against your feet.
this could be home. we could all be inside this yellow light.

the daydream is washed in watercolor. there is a commune
with fifteen bedrooms and baths. connecting doors. an old
motel, sold for taxes. no pool, thankfully. a plot of land, cultivated.
the lobby resturant is converted to the communal kitchen/gathering place.
the library would be awesome.
evening meals are served at the same hour. everyone
has their turn. if you make a mess, clean it up.
each person has their own room and a mini frig, fifteen people.
we could begin with six. with sex i almost typed. then i did.
the pranksters were just out front with it. i think that's the key.

there is still this wilderness of connection thru love
which we have not explored. we have plenty of experience with war.
jealousies and pettinesses. stranger and stranger in a strange land.
paisley busses and triple platinum star trips. could you see jh
and maya with us? k and a? lol. d and k. d and s! o o l and y.
how many is that. dilato n razz? meth? nat n co>
the bird would have to have her own place
with all those kidz. in fact....but nevermind.
this will never be. tis just a fancy
a pornography of silence.

of course i could use them all in a story.
use their names. this is what writiers do.
make a novel from lives. make the lives more real
in their frozen becomings
than the author's own life b/c the bones of books
have meaning behind them. tutenkahmen's hand reaches out of egypt
out of millenia. ptolemy's gods ashkar and thot
collapse into a bowl of petunias
on the edge of winking into the outside .
the sync the source the infinite gathering of desire into a cancer cure
and a forty minute countdown to the next cigarette
which passes into the realm of the dove.