This is a way to start a year in which our nation is in deep freeze
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shade-prefaced letter begging and bump accusations,
post-facial portraiture and black citational business
Let your cup runneth over
Over me
And with the crashing of waves
My heart to yours
With the song of the wind
I pledge allegiance to the
blood soaked flag of the
Dys-membered
Dys-United
Members Only
states of Un-America
Hard now
to flex my cheeks,
show my teeth
and smile.
She’s 9 months old.
We’re taking a bath.
6 months ago I cupped her body
And her smile whooshed
In bathwater waves
Now she’s in a rush
To stand and doesn’t like
Getting her hair wet.
Don't scream
Be serene
Watching Carl Sagan Cosmos
With Maitri
Trying to stand on my thighs
we're rocking back and forth
In the rocking chair
Suddenly I'm afraid
The winds are sweeping across America.
The flags are shredding on their poles.
The dogs are barking at the sunsets,
and the coals are burning down.
In a cold time, in a place accustomed more
To scorching heat than cold, to the flatness of plain,
Than hills: A child was born in a cave to save the world.
And it stormed, as only winter desert storms can.
Your brilliant, hot, heroic kind of love.
I have enough on my hands,
married to just one man,
and now Mariposa
is marrying her homeland.
Faith (the substance of things Hoped for)
should flow like a river
anticipating a breeze
And then one day that thing which weighed the most
Slips off the neck like a linen scarf and blows down the beach
You are no longer concerned with the shards of shell beneath your feet
The horizon has always been as far and will not come any closer
The sea takes more sand with no intention of giving it back
It was always your choice to stay here (Saint Kilda never existed)
The only one canonized on this hot boardwalk is you.
group d'etat:
movement without moment — is not
revolution — it's just
noise
I can’t write on medication
stretch out on planks
keep them I punch it
I used to be the executive assistant to the vice president of Chanel
I worked my way up from Estée Lauder
Early evening in Firenze. The day’s main events have passed.
Paint spread across canvases, lovers embraced, gelato devoured.
Have the clouds begun to shift into their twilight stance? That distinct Florentine merging of gold, yellow, pink?
Read MoreSometimes the sun rises North of East. Sometimes the moon hangs above our heads like an orphaned jewel and when I reach out it hides in your breast.
Read MoreSociety attempted to box me in, in an attempt to make me
one of them, telling me I must live, must speak their way,
but if don’t; I’ll be punished for being different, for being
extreme. A menace to society. When I was chasing a
dream. I will stand for the destruction of mankind not
another day! Soon is the time to break down the walls of
society.
The mariachi musicians in TJ stumbled into the church bleary eyed
Dragging their instruments with them
Preparing to serenade the Virgin of Guadalupe
Whose day it was
Would the benevolent virgin bless them
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