Poetry
Ran Away in 1970
I sever myself from my soul on a park bench.
Slink away before she sees.
I’ll return, I want to tell her.
instead I tell myself,
I,
the dregs.
I lapped up their lies
now I lie in their crucible, to melt
and reform in their images.
Run away to the sea,
meet a submarine
man, hide with him
under the waves, touch the glass,
reflect. Mingle
with coral.
and drown his memory next to the urchins.
A.theist
I know no god, I know all gods.
Raised without, asked why? with no easy answer.
They say I have nothing, but I have everything.
Coyolxauhqui, Athena, Medb
all stories can be part of our stories
all stories, no God. One disinteresting.
Lords of Xibalba, Tuatha de Dannan, Æsir
community. Where is community?
No church, no familial group
I make My own
mold gods from the clay of many others.
Their followers, my friends.
Flight 1066 to Ontario delayed due to bird strike.
Portland International Airport thanks you for your patience.
the fairy woman perches across on worn cushion,
small glasses curled above pointed ears.
boney fingers reach across armrest and rap,
pa-dum
pa-dum
pa-dum
Cocooned in layers she crouches,
drowning in XS Lululemon.
A wicked smile graces her face.
Her fingers
pa-dum
pa-dum
pa-dum
Maintenance crew scrapes bird goo off the hull.
She has a snack, hollow bones snap
between teeth like Pocky.
Stare ahead, hold her eyes.
pa-dum
pa-dum
pa-dum
My breathing
pa-dum
pa-dum
pa-dum
My heartbeat
pa-dum
pa-dum
pa-dum
They call her boarding group.
She collects her Target tote carry-on and flies away.
Leaves rapping fingers behind
pa-dum
pa-dum
Pa-dum
An Attempt
think of myself like
the hitchhike home
the turnpike teeter-totter
failed to solder heart
daughter-carried part
Soles
My Grandfather always told me, look at the shoes
in the foyer of His office building, towering over LA, we sat
looking at each pair that came in.
The clothes could lie, He told me, but the shoes were honest.
People in suits, I didn't know the quality, but compare
the shine of their patent leather shoes.
My Mother dressed nice to see Him, costumed her stress under skirts and sweaters
but sandals, flip flops. I saw Him see, her shoes revealed her.
My Grandfather's shoes were, of course, nice
soft suede, thin laces, never a spot of dirt
with lavender soles.
Lawyers can have fun too.
When He was cremated, I wonder what shoes they had Him wear.
After you die, do you wear shoes?
Does it matter?
It would matter, to Him.
He wanted us, my Mom, and I, to be like Him,
fancy, an air of class. I tried, but
I never had the right shoes.
Graduated high school in tennis shoes,
now in muddy boots, my shoes aren’t what He wanted.
They reveal the truth.
Brake Pad Dialouge
sputter up the hill, i want to get there but-
it rises with my speed, overflows
chokes me, drowns me, takes my sparks
i want to help- loyal dog- but i
can’t.
To the beach, to the snow,
salt crusts me, consumes me, corrodes me.
Through bug-laden sunsets and sandy storms.
Over curbs and across garage walls.
“If cars could talk, they'd say nice things about us".
i might. Would we?
i go where she wants me.
she tells me she loves me.
She doesn’t care.
Don’t know me, can’t know me. I would say nothing.
i go with you. Take us someplace nice.
Care.
Tree by the Pond
tufts of leaves, branches spread out
hanging clumps of green on wooden limbs
clouds, verdant and heavy, in a pattern across
the treetop. woolen emerald, laden with
sorrow. shedding tears through the bark
salt water
drips
down
into
the
Earth.