im tired of being okay with things im not okay with. the Congo Rainforest is being raped by sleazy companies and desperate bushmen California teachers marooned in parent's living rooms, the flag half-mast for a queen a queen in a nation of babbling democratic zealots; and it's funny, in that helpless sort of way. "sometimes …
september 17th, 2022
The time I spend in museums is not enough. I’ve always been a student of art history, since my adolescent years, but had no interest then in the collecting of fine hobbies. I used to find it pretentious, to roam sterile halls lined with 'Please Do Not Touch' signs and to regurgitate facts you read …
tribute to Stevie Wonder
Ta-nehisi called it Mecca his Hampton University where the negro gunslinger waltzes with cotillion debutante I've found it here scatting on stage in black revelry a sweaty trumpet pleads: "love's in need of a little love today love is in need." Meyerson Hall held a sing-a-long tribute to the classics sung by Stevie Wonder. somehow, …
rue
a nudge at the hide of the sleeping bear i languish after that beast of inspiration yet, as with Wordsworth the thing appears to have run from my frailty rather than devouring me whole. writing is so very elusive at times. I remember childhood when I was bursting full of stories. now, I must purposefully …
mercy
1. dime si no es verdad que una flor es nada más una flor y el valor que tiene se lo hemos dado, así como le petit prince atesoraba su única flor la suya— 2. de tal manera recuerda el vecino gusano que cuida los lirios juega con los niños y después se le arrastra …
Henry Longfellow
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; [...] Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark, and dreary. "The Rainy Day"
mono no aware
Tower of Babel, ziggurat skyscraper whatever we elect to name them industrial arms of Gaia its amazing still, though— i much prefer the delible, deciduous leaves crunch and blow regrow i write poems in the water in Dallas park i sit and watch the traffic go. as much as I love the permanence of monuments, …
from the airplane
Peering through a crack in the sky, from a seat on AA2658, the enso etched by the steady hand of Amaterasu my eyes are blinded— burning tundra, mountains of lava and dust visages of red thunder rumbling soveign across the clouds. written the last time I saw my sister.
the embarkation
"Well, that's like, your opinion man." And yeah, sure. The homeless and the glutton clumped like fried dough all doing blow, or alcohol, or music on the crossing of Auzerais and moonlight "San Jose. It's alright, at best." "Sure," I laugh, but seriously no man is an island entire unto himself . The hotel was …
not a sonnet no. ii
the beat of a heart knocking against the door a game, we play. come in, the voice says, light with laughter the drum, drum of some new adventure. come in, again, distant and moving i thought i should follow and so thinking, i tried "ours are the moments I play in the dark" -Lorde
The-Bleu-Bivouac 