Poems

It’s been a long day                                                                                      and

I wish I could identify all the trees with the barks blistering inside each other

the leaves twisting in the hot California light

the acceptance of difference being a dance

we all can dance to / a mosaic mural of

luv tiles mirroring what makes music

nipped cold and tired from the

 bay              baby bees

digging in pale pink magnolias \ red orange yellow green blue & 

purple    whip in the heir, huge playgrounds waiting to be built  

ideas waiting to be action     ized

imple     mented          with this

sack of traveling cleaning supplies

of a brain        prettied, painted

wild card

listen ! Our bodies are

political poppy daisies                 and we’ve come a long way.

June 24

For the first 45 minutes of 11pm standing outside the Roxie theatre with beer bottles breaking so beautifully on the soaked street of San, someone asks me for a cigarette and strokes my arm when I say no. Another yells at another: You ready to suck some cock bitch? Come suck my cock and don’t talk shit or else I’ll knock you out. Another in a fancy sweater stops to ask if I’m okay and he says: It’s okay, me too, we all gotta cry sometimes.

But I wasn’t crying. I really wasn’t crying. I was just waiting

for the girls to finish their movie

glittering all sad & manly.