Mother’s Day

This can be a tricky holiday, for me, as my mother was only alive for the first 10 years of my life. But in those ten years, she made enough of an impression on me to forever represent a warm, smiling sun, in my mind, that has guided me for my entire life. I’ve also met a lot of cool mothers (of all sorts of things) that have helped me a great deal along my path, not the least of which is my big sister, Sherry. So, thanks to ALL my mothers! I wouldn’t be here without you.


The courage that my mother had 

Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1892  1950

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.

Oh, if instead she’d left to me
The thing she took into the grave!—
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have.


 

Heart sleeves

Sometimes I roll up my heart sleeves
And get on with it
But more often I let them hang
Freely in the breeze
Or drag them through the dirt
Sometimes I button them at the wrists
Nice and tight then
Puff my self up like a balloon

You don’t have to look at my body
I have covered it for you
But that doesn’t mean
My body does not exist
Take a bite
Communicate freely
Nothing is set in stone forever
The most common dinosaur bone is special

I almost died eating a Subway sandwich
A tooth was causing me pain
I had it removed
The space allowed something to slip through
I was swallowing
And nothing was happening
For a few seconds I was not afraid

Something went down the wrong pipe
Will I have to ask for help
Suddenly my body remembered
To breath out instead of in
I returned with a single cough

It scared the hell out of me
Free of hell for the moment
My heart felt sore
I went back to chewing slowly

The pale light through this dirty window Makes everything on the other side

Look like old phots from the 1970’s

Ohm Radha Krishnaya Namaha

Do you suffer in your new life
Is it fair to blame that empty bottle
You threw out the car window
On you last day
In high school

Ohm Radha Krishnaya Namaha

There is Blonde on Blonde light
Coming through the window
It causes all the crumbs on the table
To move to the foreground

Ohm Radha Krishnaya Namaha

It’s a Bob Dylan kind of light
Like you don’t want to smell
This light’s breath

Ohm Radha Krishna Namaha

I can’t expect you to understand me
When I said that everything
Is perfect but it is
We can always always always always
Start again

Addicted to running 

To hearing every voice
The ringing is a ghost
Of love

Telephones that took our time

We used to attach ourselves
To common things
Smuggling in new light

Arrowsmith Trans Am REM

Now we distort the stolen titles
Fighting the grinder of spellcheck
The cold hard algorithms
Softening us up with baby talk

Google Twitter YouTube Paypal

We spent weeks in the woods
With a single token collect call
Spoke of my latest badges of merit
Or how many bug bites I had sustained

Even then I had very little desire to talk

Luckily there is no deadline for love
No such thing as too much love
Flowers are telephones
They like to be admired
They love to be loved

And they love you

Girl in a wheelchair at the airport

Thank you for sharing with me
Your beautiful ballet in outer space

I fell in love with you at first sight
For a moment I thought you were a boy
It felt like it happened
Almost without thinking
Why did I do that
The shoes gave it away
Why do we need that
They were pink

From above clouds can look like
Skin under a microscope
The surface of another planet
Or the old standby cotton balls
The fabric of our lives

If I’m honest it was the hair that
First got my attention
The way it hung in your eyes
Like saying look at me
I can’t see you

Okay maybe it was the wheelchair too
I don’t know which came first
In this chicken or egg world
But I just wanted to thank
Thank you for the dance