musing on the visit

and i was touched by how everyone

just kept being normal with their normal

actions, the fro yo vendor, the busker with fire,

the kid standing in front of  a giant copper posiedon

all the cars stopping at the same point on the interstate

over and over again like a 4 way compelled it

and struck by the way we flock, or pack or murder like crows

there was funny incident involving coffee, siri and ft. eustis

before which i had no knowlege of a  museum of military transportation

a short discussion on the number of military bases in the state

universal health care etc and just once i mentioned how the patriarch

doesn't acknowlege some of his grandkids and all agreed.

tears in sure in my voice but i tried hard not show how much

this mother bear hurt. i mean i can call my kids cunts but

i will defend them because reasons.

()()(

so i  guess i had a bad case of the jellies.

not really bad in my actions or words so much

as the quiet kind, the i can't party with you kind

cuz po relations have to keep heads down or get railed

 off the bus.  and o course, showing the pictures to my loved ones

evokes the jellies as well, the hurt no commental type.

i hope to travel there again with them.

let them taste what hard work and smarts really can do.

no silver spoons here, just commitment and work.

the american dream in the flesh of cousins. of course

they don't want revolution. in their position that's just dumb.

but they have compassion. that's important.

don't name it yet

 

i've sat all day and i'll sit some more

this time doing what i love.

the sky reddens, a breeze comes up

if you were here we'd abandon this time

to the skeeters. it's not quite summer

i could open the windows since you're not.

here. it's given me some time to udersttand

how a relationship requires missing  you

to stay active.  this almost a decade together

still feels kinda new. i give and you give

and we both just would rather take

as babies do, entitled joy. that's what they mean

when they tell us it takes work. i saw bill 

and melinda are splitting up. that one makes me sad

and glad i meet you later in life, so that by dying

we may not fade away. 

where does love go when it dies?

once the moon rose i saw it slip

 quickly as  slick gator snout to the other side

climbed out. didn't look back to see me watching.

cicada choral was the sound track, love 

on one side of the water, me on the other. 

the wake barely splashing

dripping down the nose of land love 

dissappeared.  mosquitoes

  found me then so i went inside. 

of course i searched for it later. 

tried to follow ghostly tracks,fleeting glimpses,

nostalgaic chimeras.  opening doors

it could be born in, closing them again.

each time i was certain this was the last time

but i just couldn't give it up for long. i circle

it , it circles me, we make constellations of each other

settle into the ocean, bioluminescent and clinging

i find it goes back inside and it's up me to let it out.

clean house femme film fest

 i want oto describe for you 

in eidetic detail the way i am 

inside this world. y sandals' straps

wrap under my arches,  dirty with yesterdays pressure

wash, i have a ten dollar rayon dress 

that is green spring flowers outlining my yes

i do still have them i can see why you'd want to snuggle

like emily and maryann in sense and sensibility it 

bows eversopolitely edward by hugh grantish

to memory. i've binged movies, a 2 day fest 

not tied to any human demand but mine or 

waiting in lines but  doris was the last of them.

an uber femme character i imagine so many women

find themselves parallel parking in our psyche

and what's all this i am woman coming

from mtf trans? my argument is manyfold

but mainly it's about what we are ttrained to emulate.

if we all could just be humans first

the only possessive with no apostrophe is its.

i'm speaking english cus it's the only language i know.

so there's that....

*   

i walked thru a doorr , forgot why i came

the dress , silky  ruffetted empire waist cut

over layers progressively expanding to flounce

 ruffly and swingy. falls at the knee.

e sandals, bed of my feet, are leather upper with man

made paint stained instep separatig from sole. 

i used to ggo barefoot but now my feet

can't take suckly stickers and stones

why go on about the te dollar dress

ten. dollars.  the worth of a woman 

the cost of the femme. i kinda wished my man

would watch these things wtih me. my film fest

of femme. what i've been watching:

sensse and sensibility, hello i'm doris

the subsequent movie, the nanny diaries

 and couple of woody

allen movies i can't recall titles. 

in case you're wonderinng the typos aree my 

keyboard messinng up. particularly on the n.

i need a cig. brb.

8

of course we don't get back to it.

the nieghbors scold their dog in 

spanish. it barks a lot. impelled them

to enclose their screen porch

which gives me more privacy

also the norfolk pine is on a growth spurt

due to coffee grinds and blood meal. .

soon it will fill the backyard 

with much needed shade. probably i'll

be long gone by then, but soon.

what i remember from the woody allen flicks

is the lightinng. and that ubiquitous 20's jazz.

like wtf woody. why the fascination? b/c it was fine

a part of societal norm for the older man younger woman trope?

i mean, can you really cancel someone because they're 

playinng  their role?  one could say snarkily, excelling. 

one did.  and the new york one, set in the sixties or 

seventies, where the woody stand in is a geeky

upper east side trust fund jazz geek. i fell asleep.

not so much cancellinng as bored. 

the girls next door winnd up.

mom left a minute ago. or dad. 

the dysfunctionality feels familiar.

the oldest girl hates mom, screams

god is watching you will burn in hell.

weeks later she taunts the barking dog

and someone reminds her, behind two curtains

that god is watchinng her as well. today 

is relatively quiet, her scorn muted and short. 

i'be stopped wearinng my glasses so much

as they didn't make things clearer and fell

of my head . i am dangerous to glasswear.

*

 ;b

i gotta go clean my house now my head's clear.

we recently painted a few walls and the place looks 

different. a bit shabbier . drums in the back unassembled.

the music has died in this house. i miss it. creative spaces

turn to more mundane and keepinng life togetherr 

endeavors. the body is weary. my days off are few.

i like a clean house, clear windows. no one's gonna do it

but me.