06.28.12

asian preschool girl

with highlights in hair

surprising amount of jewelry

and the color spectrum in peace signs on tights

hops upon wooden structure

and starts talking to me

as ford

is pouring sand

from a plastic, blue teapot

i cut my hair, she said

and my mom didnt hit me

i dont know why she didnt hit me

i thought she was gonna hit me...

she said for me to go to bed

but i said i didnt wanna go to bed

she said did i wanna get hit

i said no, i dont wanna get hit

she left and went into the room with dad

and he screamed at her

not yet versed

in child psychology

i said really?

teacher hollered
time to clean up

the girl hopped down & away

06.27.12

last night
everyone was named mark

it started with baptism
and ended with missing persons

it started in a basement
and ended on a roof

the city light
eternal
beckoning its angels
back home
for christmas

06.25.12

early morn

on tube

watching cement mixer & gang

spread sidewalk

late morn

at clay & jones

watching mixer & gang

lay street foundation

afternoon

toy mixer comes
barreling by bathroom

down hallway

evening...

the mixer

is the never fading womb

that births

the ability

to go anywhere

06.24.12

cotton clouds over cole

a jolly roger kite dives

over monkeys climbing

and sliding

ball of old news & duct tape

i blow across the handle of the yellow bat
to make a lonely sound

floating over the rise of drums

they're shipping wildcat to indonesia

to build shangri-la on a beach

some say it can be done

with these golden gate phillips head acorns

06.23.12

pink roses welcome you
a fire engine screaming
a private airplane humming
playing my headache like a harmonica

there is ancient treasure buried
below this sandbox
the pre-earthquake motherload

old, plastic faced treasure hunter
sunbathing on bench
with his partner
plastic surgery buddha
white face of stone lotion

fountain of turtles
like hand claps
the oracle of cliches circles
"there is nothing new under the sun,
that is true," he says

groups gathered in grass,
bright saturday population
a new crowd of kids descending like locusts
a motorcycle spits up


the treasure is almost found
but it's time to go


there's always next time

 

FRESH FRUIT FOR ROTTING VEGETABLES

listening to dead kennedys

ford removes pillows

from sofa

placed in pile

center of room

he tries climb, but falls

life lesson

what would tipper gore do?

he moves pillows to a chair

stands in chair to protect

starts dancing

it's happiness & movement of shoulders

left & right

feet planted

it's 4:30 PM & we just had strawberries

i've never sipped rubbing alcohol

but the shin bone

of my left leg

has been itching

every five days

i am hoping

that one of these records

will

heal it

06.22.12

making egg sandwiches for lunch
we watched a digger do its thing by the park
my son is on the floor
having a tantrum
i take the butter from the fridge
this is your brain on drugs
ketchup, worcestershire, a bit of tobasco on mine
he comes in holding an Xbox controller
Netflix, you demon
You have been exorcised from the iPad
a bit of salt, pepper
he's into it, peace in the valley
flip the wah wah top
ice in my glass
murky, iced tea oasis

06.14.12

everyone on haight street

looks so guilty this morning

my son says hi

to a group of giggling bums smoking a bowl

good morning, i say, strolling by

the sun is beaming down like knives

we meet jason near hippy hill

and throw a baseball

talk of projects

jason sets his bike to spin like a loom

ford thinks the trash can is a bus

a cop on a horse waves