Ma-Maw

The way you said my name in the stretched out compound word way of the south. The way you mixed cereals together and talked with your mouth full. The way you hauled me off to sunday school and never saw the dark sullen clouds above me..the festering sin...no, I was always your sweet grand-daughter. The way I will always have a soft spot for ladies who have to take 100 pictures of the buffet or can't stop talking during a movie. The way you'd refer to your hammer-toe as "oohh..look at my poor little toe!" and the way you never threw any food out until it was dripping with mold. The way I've missed so many opportunities to see you these last few years.. the letters not written, calls not made.
and more.
this is killing me.
Dearest woman, please be okay.
Please keep your legs.
Please don't go.
not yet
not yet

"put on your spurs and swagger around..

..in the
desperate
kingdom
of love."

So I fainted the other night and found myself on the floor of my bathroom with a purple bump on my face and thought :
shit. This is the sort of thing that drives people to churches.

This was all back pain, this was all mental strain and we dig demons out of old wounds winding ourselves too tight about worries too thin the days can get away from you when you start chasing.. put your own oxygen mask on first so that you can better assist others..
I so easily forget how the health slips when I am too busy worrying about the words on my lips hanging like a needle over a turntable
it is really just not all so dramatic.

It comes down to this...

If the show is sold out. If I put my money on the wrong horse. If when I finally ask for help it isn't there. If I show up after everyone left. If she dies before she knows I'm sorry. If my music sucks. If I never quit smoking. If I quit smoking and find out that was the only cool thing about me. If my back never stops hurting. If I let myself cry and am not able to stop. If I'm not able to protect myself. If next time I am not so lucky. If I forget all my CPR training amidst the chaos of crushed cars and strange blood. If I forget to set my alarm. If I pick the mystery prize and end up winning absolutely nothing. If he was really the one but I was too afraid of the vulnerability that forgiveness exposes. If the Christians are actually right. If he never leaves the oval office. If she finds out I was never her real grand-daughter. If this poem is self-serving and steams of bullshit. If I give too much to the wrong person. If they were right all along. If there is something I could of done and didn't. If I never finish school. If I never finish school because I am too stupid to finish school. If I never finish the book, the painting, the movie, the cd. If I never see Greece. If the test results are positive. If I never get to be a mother. If I end up being a rotten mother. If the next time I see him I will be visiting him in prison. If the Atheists are actually right. If I die too soon and am buried beneath 6 feet of "potential." If I die.
The world will still spin
The sun will still shine
and someone, somewhere..
will be doing just fine.

Deigeh nisht

oh madame, I do not know you but let me shlep your heavy parcels for you... for in hopes you will see my heart believes itself to be a klipeh ..
Dear old woman with babushka look upon me at your door with rachmones in your eyes..
lady pat my head and gently say
"deigeh nisht, child... deigeh nisht.."

Don't Fuck With Love

yeah, this one is for you. This one is for all of us.

TITLER

The tragedy of Julius Ceasar

Ceasar has been under-dressed!
Oh, what a tragedy!
Arm yourselves with oil and lemons!
He's making obscene suggestions with fat hands full of angst
and anchovy!
The war is on with the King of Crouton..
and you, brutal Brutus...
pass the parmesan?



(guess what I had for lunch today)

The world was made from nothing..

..sometimes the nothing shows through.

Spent a lovely weekend in Olympia. Friday hung out at a bar with two people I have not seen in years. Jen with her lovely artful eyes and tender, expressive face that scrunches up like a paper bag one second and then relaxes to such a stoic grace the next you can only smile at what a miracle she is, how in awe you are that she even exists. Eppy beat my ass at pinball but whatever, I'd give him a run for his money if I'd ever played Dirty Harry before, I mean he's logged like 8,000 hours on that one machine so I didn't have much of a chance in hell. So that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Was a beautiful night of beer and meandering about a playground and talking to Eppy beneath the quiet sphere of Olympia's tiny sky and then of course..Shari's at 2am and the goddamned quiche...get quiche! get it to go!
Next day went on an incredible hike with the folks over at Mt Rainer. Fairy land trail with alien flowers straight out of Dr. Suess and patches of snow to slide about on and deliver well-deserved snowballs at my father as he and my mother debate who should be wearing the best hat. My silly, sweet, funny folks. I crack my father up with profane jokes about Jack in the Box and my mother feigns disgust but can't help laughing because she has the sort of sense of humor that could make a sailor blush.
Got off the bus in Seattle last night.. exhausted from my days with no sleep and so much sun and sore feet from hiking. Walking home get bugged by guys twice in a row...Fuck off, asshole I do not give a fuck if you think I'm pretty..I'm walking here guy, go to hell. Why is it that when I feel the most tired, the most heavy with thoughts that are as far from fucking as the east is from the west, when I really look the shittiest..eyes bleary, swollen and tired..face sunburnt and dry and broken out, back a helix of pain, feet blistered and begging for an epsom salt soak, pits swampy and pungent having sweated off the Tom's of Maine 8 hours ago...THAT is when the universe decides to send a flood of horny assholes my way who want to sidle up next to me and yap about stupid shit.. Grumpy and sullen I stumbled into the bar by my house intent on a double gin n' tonic and some journal time.. get into an almost fight with another guy who just didn't understand why I wouldn't want to quit what I was doing and listen to his vocal diarrhea. I guess he asked the bartender about me, bartender said I was a social worker (thanks bar guy) so Fuck-Head is all "hey, aren't you supposed to be nice..isn't that your job?" Yeah. that's it. I say "Look, I paid my 6 bucks for this drink and I'm going to sit here and do what I intended to do and what I intend to do does not include you at all. If you bother me again you will see that not only am I "not nice" but I am a murderer..or I will be once I stab you repeatedly in the face and stomache. Got it?" Fuck, I would have too. They would have hauled my ass off to jail I was so ready to decapitate this man. I will have eaten cereal out of his cracked and empty skull. All in all, he left quietly and I finished my drink with no further upsets.
What kind of person am I? What does it really mean that I am a social worker?
I am a good person, but not a nice person. For example, if you are choking I would be the first person to jump up and be willing to do whatever it takes to free your airway..puke on me if you must, so what? There will be other clothes. I would never go out of my way to hurt anyone, when I step on a bug I cringe with guilt. However, should you push expectations of politeness on me, shove yourself into my line of sight and tell me to smile..well, I will tell you to go get stabbed and then turn back to my book with a free and breezy conscience.
So have some respect, and take your fucking Fuck Glasses off when you look at me.
now stick that in your skull and shut your mouth.

In the dark there shadows everywhere..

...eating our sleep.

Everywhere there are people. Stretching limbs, yawning, sulking into bowls of soup or cereal, ruminating over wine and the stink of a good cigarette, holding cold pistols in one hand as they stare off a roof and pledge themselves to some whisper of theology..every bullet says "now now now" and they are always bumping in and out of love, these people...people everywhere dragging novels behind them searching for the slip of comfort found in a blanket or cup of coffee and every little peiece is a bit of a larger thing, every little fish is a tyrant of the sea...they want to fill the void they want to fill the empty spaces..
I just want to be alone. Clean, pristine.. wash the sweat of humanity off of me good fucking god.
Atlanta swims in me, Wyoming pulls my teeth, old lovers howl from their cages, past sins pucker the skin, family shakes my tiny shoulders with their sorrows I can only voicelessly gape at the gore that suffering exacts, life pulls and breathes and grabs by the neck to stick in the back, the death the rotting death of loved ones always coming again to dig coffin nails into the heart of the living the sobbing living..they all come to me with their demands...