night juice

Last night I dreamt of you,

not you but a dream you,

who stuck a middle finger

deep in my blueberry pie brain,

sucked off sweet neuro goo

with lips stained by thoughts.

To dream you, it was dessert,

it was delight, it was too true.

bellybutton humid

Why must we wait

tufted clouds

at the end of the day?

Be just like the

sulking sun

stanking air adrift.

not all men

not all men;

but enough.

enough

that I cannot

dig thru the

thrift store bin

sift thru the

broken, the stained,

the ripped and old.

brush off the soot.

not all men;

but enough.

enough

that I will not,

do not, shall

not, that's my will.

religion

I want every little thing to be sacred.

Each meal a plated altar, 

a meditation

in my body, my temple,

a vessel made of bone

to linger on

in the ground.

Feed me 

to feed you.

breathless baby

Don't reject the things you love today

in favor of the idealized imaginary future

you won't likely achieve. Don't shrug off

the desire and pull, to use the good stuff.

(It's all good stuff)

Nor permiss your body's territory

blend in with the surrounding landscape

watercolor smooth and pastel.

Chain each second, each breath, each thought

to your heart and be as you are.

I am a lamb in the storm

He laughs like Pacino, as I step over roots,

which flex out the ground like veins on a dick.

I am picking up sticks, wet from the storms,

we wander over street crossings, where 

only an hour before,  we met new neighbors,

fresh sweet potato string friends, emerged

from their homes. No electricity, dying battery,

we can only cling to each other in the heat.

We are family now; trauma thicker than blood.

don't look

My body is a scrapbook

of all these characters

I made and wore before;

for all people which 

I thought wanted my 

dog and pony show,

my playbill 

for all the people 

I thought I wanted to be

when I thought I liked them.

zesty

Wash my face in

freshman year,

Zesty & Orange.

Bite into a dream

where I genderbend

and am scared.

No one never will

ever know it for

I'll never share.

My dead mother, 

my dream dragon,

Ain't there & Won't be here.

calls in the house

"why haven't you called her yet?"

He asks, unknowing,  

He is asking why I have not

climbed Mount Everest nor

won a Grammy nor bungeejumped.

I spiral as a blond hair curled

around a coworker's ear

like hope going down the drain

and already knowing 

you'll never be good friends.

mad ocean

The ocean is rightfully mad.

Her biome rebels, as orcas

sink yachts and man opens

his fat selfish mouth in shock.

Her waters protest, as sharks

attack swimmers and children cry

their wild-eyed tears in dismay.

What did we think, if ever we did,

would happen? Splay and exhibit.

Behold a new concept?

That which some call 'Consequence.'

Did not Newton warn you?

For every action, there is an equal

and opposite reaction. 

Or did we hope and pray to a God not there

we be immune from physics and ourselves

and from true Lords in the water?

Back out now, but it's too late.

We can only gape in horror

as we face our wholly ourselves.

dispair

Dispair, but

how disease is to be at dis-ease.

We are meant to be in-pairs

and without we dis-pair.

secondhand

What of the third and fourth and fifth hand things? Where is there space for a body like me? The not yet worn out, but handled so much. Shifting through hands like sands through the sifter, shaker, onto the top of the pile...again. What is the true difference? Between all the hands that handled me before, barely tolerated and never genuinely welcomed, and the future hands I dream of? Hands to hold, hands like home, hands caress. Or hands I've met? Heavy handed, hands which hit, hands that grab. You must wonder how I still could hope and think of healing, loving hands. I do as well.

adhd

Always

Hopeful

Always

Down.

watermelon

I watch you

eat watermelon

as a bear

destroys beehives

for just a taste of honey.

It is comically over the top

I cringe. Away.

A lady would do it so sweetly

any mess a delightful palatable sense.

be docile please

Don't bleed on the bed

as you so often do.

Don't stare at the sky

and linger like clouds.

Don't cry those tears

all over the green lawn.

Don't shake the trees

with your angry storms.

Don't be a woman or 

do as women so do.