Monday, July 31, 2017

poisoned daggers cloaked in Rotary Club good works


poisoned daggers, aimed meticulously
at your heart from a safe distance of
Christian values and Rotary Club good works,
you know the ones, like your own father,
who delivered meals to the poor on Thanksgiving Day
and raped his daughter the night before,
the evil ones,
the ones who act pious and good,
while spitting poisoned daggers from side-mounted
holsters.
You may know them as fathers and brothers
as I do,
or Senators spouting morality after boffing young boys
in public restrooms.
They are usually male.
They dance in each other's shadows,
seeking protection from the law and the light of goodness.
I know them, so do you.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

the taste of cigarette


long ago we laid in each other's arms
I remember he smoked and he would reach for 
a cigarette afterwards
I liked the sour taste of cigarette in his mouth
 it reminded me of another love who smoked,
a young man raising himself, working bowling alleys,
how he smoked while we drove around together
late at night.
I was raising myself.
my mother was so absent
he was there.
and so, somehow the taste of a cigarette in 
my lover's mouth meant safety
I never realized this until tonight, some 37
years later.
I don't need that anymore.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Two women and a dying man

two women and a dying man saved the day
by voting no.
the dying man staggered to the front of the chambers,
at the last moment, turning his thumb down.
it was the right thing to do, flying on government
dollars to make this vote, receiving the finest medical care
on the government dollar, in his dying days
he knew he couldn't die having voted yes
while having taken so much.
and what of the two women who had the balls
to stand up to all the white Republican men,
well, that's what strong women do.

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Trash Talk and Devastation in Washington



Sure, they wear nice suits and crisp ties,
the older white men.
they talk trash, Trump and his goons,
fighting talk, firing talk, f*ing unacceptable talk.
Sanctions for Russia, skinny repeal, North Korea,
just talk big, very very big,
very very good.
Our President, never will I say President
and Trump in the same phrase.
Let them talk trash, I will bide my time
until 2018, only writing postcards for
now.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

The Rain

A woman runs by with her dog,
laughing and looking up to the sky,
water running down her face
her T-shirt dark wet with rain.
we're drinking wine, toasting to the skies,
the tomato plants dancing to raindrops,
thunder and sirens, do they not always
go together,
the dog cowers inside while we
laugh and young people shout and
chase through the streets.
It's rain
rain after endless days of dry heat.
it's rain
that cleanses all.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

it's so hot

water would boil on sidewalks
if there was moisture,
eggs would fry on roofs.
it's so hot that black dogs
pant while sleeping on the couch
with the fan spinning.
its so hot that we all drag
ourselves from work to home
to bed to work again
and we pray for the cool winds
of autumn.

Monday, July 24, 2017

saying good bye

saying good bye when things are broken,
but you still hope for a repair.
is it harder to say good bye to something broken
or intact, you'd think the latter
but humans are funny creatures
logic does not always apply.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Big guns


I'm ready now
Japanese beetles beware.
Your life is about to be over.
With a quick load of salt, you'll be sprayed
with a high speed stream of salt,
tell me how good that feels on your guts.
I watch you get blown off my flowers,
some of you may still be alive
but I'll get you the next time where you will
join your brethren in a carpet of dead carcasses.
Yes, I'm ready now.
Are you.

Friday, July 21, 2017

sweat

I sweat
in rivers, glistening rivers down
my neck, the back of my shirt is drenched
in sweat, even my legs are moist, my feet
stick to the floor.
we all sweat, I see sweat running
down their backs, their faces,
the room is humid and dank
even those who don't sweat,
like me,
are sweating as we move
in this dance of capoeira.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Street cleaning


the tow trucks were busy.
one after another, they lined up 
attaching chains to the cars still settled 
in for the night, their owners no doubt
in ignorant bliss, sipping their morning lattes.
this is the big city, boys,
where streets get cleaned and cars get towed,
where city coffers fill with fines and the slick fingers
of tow truck drivers thumb through bills,
easily gained first thing in the morning.
and me, I admire the streaks of clean streets
from my front porch.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

smile at the world


smile at the world
when trees fall on houses
when executives blanche
when all this is fixed
with a few dollars and a few words.
smile with freckles and dimples
that come with old age, 
smile with a gold tooth.
smile because you have friends
and your kids are getting married,
that you're employed and have a soft bed.
smile for all those who don't, in the hope
that one day they will.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong person


no one bothered to tell the tree
wrong place, wrong time and wrong person.
doesn't this tree know not to fall on houses
or that
there is no good time to fall on a house
and even more
this house belongs to the nicest person
who doesn't deserve a tree on his house
there is no karma on this one
no need for him to get a slap on the hindquarters
he only deserves sunshine in his cereal
and a cool breeze on his brow,
tree, you showed up at the wrong place,
the wrong time and the wrong
person.
tis a pity.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Flying under the Moon


Flying under the Moon
all we hear is the rush of air
against the balloon, the whoosh of hot air rising
from the flames which seem so close as
to burn us.
all we see are trees swaying in the wind
below us
and the Moon falling away from us.
towards the horizon.
it's daytime but it could be night
except for the green of the leaves -
they would be silver in moonlight
and for the slight sheen of sweat
on your brow.

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Falling off my bike

the car was suddenly right in front of me.
I was almost as suddenly on the ground
rubbing blood  from my arm onto the cement.
my bike and me in a single pile.
not the best way to start the day.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Napping at One

A nap at one p.m.
is a must for someone who is in need of sleep
- no matter why.
overworked or bored
underpaid or paid so much no work is needed
low on sugar or bloated from a heavy lunch
up too many times with a baby or a snoring husband
injured or well
napping at one p.m. is a delight
a must, on a weekend or weekday,
old or young, black or white, all genders,
sizes and colors, whether LGBT or Q or I
whatever letters,
napping at one p.m. is a delight.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Candy for boys


men will be boyz.
chocolate, caramel, coconut and coca cola
will buy their hearts and
their hard work,
a high five in the lab, an extra hour of work
no complaining.
I'll eat the cherries and fruit,
the salads and a bite of chocolate
and keep working.
we're tired, 
we're high on sugar
we will prevail.

Monday, July 10, 2017

It's all a game


Life is a game
with winners and losers,
the lucky and the unlucky.
but this, tonight is a game
just for fun
with friends and music and singing,
where a Brazilian man holds a Mexican woman
by the waist, gently, as they dance together
in this game.
it's a beautiful game
this game of life
today she is the birthday girl
she's a winner in the game
of life. 

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Walking down the river


and a dirt path 
became a raging river, filled with hail
and rain, 
I put my sunhat over my rain hood
to keep from being beaten about the face
with icy pellets.
any attempts to keep dry feet were quickly aborted
and I hiked down the trail with haste,
yet cautiously,
hoping not
to slip on hidden rocks.
Woe to the hikers who had no rain gear,
they were huddled under spindly pine trees
I would have helped them if I could.
And to the mountain bikers who were
careening down hill a moment ahead of me,
they were caught in hail, wheels splashing
through the rivers that used to be trails.
How quickly things change 
from a sunny warm day to 
thunder, hail and torrential rain.
Let us be prepared.

Thursday, July 6, 2017

New Potatoes


Clusters of asteroids orbiting the Garden,
Three large orbited again by three small ones.
White New Potatoes, their white flesh pocked
with the debris of soil impaction and penetration.
They look alike, these potatoes and asteroids.
They need names, these potatoes, Euliptis,
Radisco and Proslabus, they will soon disappear
into eager mouths, buttery hot
leaving asteroids to orbit in lonely trajectories
in distant space. 

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Bicycling under the Moon


bicycling under the moon 
on empty roads, silence surrounding
dark forests that threaten to swallow you
whole should the wheels veer off
the narrow shoulder.
Ride in the middle of the moonlit 
night, ride along the center line,
pull wheelies and careen from one side
to the other.
only the moon is watching your rims
spinning along this silent empty
road, rims reflecting her moonlight,

#moonlight