Thicker Ice

I'm sick of a few buried rats in the garden

they had gnawed their way in

the cherry juice and the Philipino grocer

the stories of New York which I am so sick of hearing

the leather jackets and the subway

Bloom me into full view

for I am about to go lengthwise

not dead but levitating

greased up and ready for the fryer

Place me in the palm of the hand of Jesus

I've been needing to be seen

as if I am a mirror and a misquito

crushed into a parasitic relationship

with time and space

feel me until I am green as a new bud in the Spring

but it's winter

and I am looking for

my ice skates

The Kitchen Floor

During the war 

we slept 

on the kitchen floor

with jackets for blankets

we used corn for rice

and beans for pepper

we used sand for paper

drawing long lines

with sticks 

in the wet mud

as the tide rushed out

We used red for blue

and yellow for green

Belief About the Online Experience

The first twenty minutes of my computer day I sat in the corner

counting algorithms and AI generated bot preventing pop-up windows

in order to get to the core of humanity inside of our gut reactions

like, smiley face, thumbs up, animated gif, emoticon symbol

quickly and efficiently 

spilling our collective guts to each other

Meanwhile in another window

another tab

the guy with half a beard is telling me 

that most of what I think is lies

because I am apt to go to extremes

when I am online

I believe him.

Bury Me in Your Waves

 I dreamt I saw the ocean it was as big as a rock

a mountain of water ticking like a clock

sea creatures and runaway cats

all caught up inside

I tried to cover my head 

I tried to run and hide

But something kept calling me

about the way you move inside

the movie of my mind

you are the star

come and take me 

bury me

in your waves

what you say?

Now what you say?

Come on and take me

bury me in your waves

The Land of Happiness

I dreamt I was sailing on a boat toward my former self

I passed mermaids and dolphins splashing on the way

beautiful coral underneath my feet

as I walked on water

I dreamt I had a beautiful baby boy

as beautiful as you, my boy

and I held him close like the man in the moon

holds the stars

I dreamt I played in the sand

with a fortune inside of a sand castle

dreams washed away with laughter

as I let my toes sink into the wet sand

I dreamt I sailed away then

on a boat with big white sails

it took me across the ocean

to a distant land

A Moment in the Clock of the World w/ Extra Questions

A moment in the clock of the world

The Buddha asks,

"what is the sound of one hand clapping?"

I know, I smile wryly.

I've hosted

songwriter 

showcases.

Has my job been to give you meaning

am I a doll or a plaything?

A rag doll a dress up toy, a hooker, a poster child for

the purity you crave

while at the same time you poke fun at it

you pedestal it

animal style

Egypt Dream

 I caught a train to Memphis

caught a lightning bug in a jar

caught a cold 

then caught myself

before I said too much

I left my feet in bed

socks rolled up like potato bugs

left my worries

and left my punches too

I slipped into my slip

silky and white as it was

slid into bed next to the Devil

and the Euphrates River

slept until I was in ancient Egypt

famous as the Pharoahs

and eye liner to the stars

Slices

 I want to say "it's been a slice, boys" as I point my fingers

like the Fonz

and get hauled off to jail

I want to be Turner tied to the mast

I want to run my fingers along the jaw

of fate

I want to be a small bug in a flower pot

and have nothing to worry about

all day

except climbing up on the next ball of dirt

a small crumb to some

but to me it's Mount Everest

and that's all I need to worry about

Feed Me Seymour

The backend of the boat the slop of the canoe

pushing out into the waters uncharted and unmapped

I used to be happy before I got blue and you started talking to me about rap.

The bones and the sinews of my whole being are built in rhyme

Rhythm banged me in the head 'til I got blind

and now I see

so don't talk to me

about the birds and the bees

I got stung

and climbed the ladder rung

Dee Dee Dee

Snake in the Soapbox

 I am thankful for coffee

but who died to get me this coffee

to bring it here to the United States

the genocide capital

the genocide kings

Proud people perished

digging for gold

long before Kayne West

and the beat

long before newspapers

and grief

Gaza has got me thinking 

'bout the Trail of Tears

Cherokee nation

returning

to find itself

burned on the inner sunburn of the skin of the cat

the snake keeps on turning

pushing up against the sides

of the soapbox

on the bully pulpit

preaching to an empty room

of Zombies on their cell phones

one looks up.

Where I Was Going

The tragedy of being smug

clicks in me like quarters in the slot

clanking and settling with a thud.

_________________

I was going to write a poem about the tragedy of being smug

and talk about Katherine Hepburn's father 

and the circus

and the people that came to my work

looking to get in 

and me turning them away

in my big black sweater and my migraine haughtiness

and how I hated myself for that.

I was going to paint a great painting

on a 30x40 canvas

but it ended up being a mess

I was going to prove that I could write a long poem

by drawing it out like a line in the sand

far and away

a stick in the wet earth

I was going to talk to Nina Simone at the beach

call me crazy but I thought maybe I could

that I had a favor somewhere

I was going to go to Bethlehem but I had a star

stuck in my shoe

a tack really

a shiny little thing

making it hard to walk

I was going to lift more boxes

and show that I was strong

stacking hay bales in the shade of the barn

and burning myself in the sun

that tiny little sunburn to show I am alive

those pained muscels drawn into shape

like Stubbs horses

decomposing in the barn

and Louis the Sun King

and his palace

something

about horsemen

and equine therapy

and Delta Blues and Piedmont Blues

and everyone having their own personality

I was going to die in Gaza

hand on my heart and head at the sky

eyes rolled back

I was going to fist bump the bus driver

for giving me a ride

so late at night

and not looking at me too hard

when I fell asleep 

after putting the quarters

into the dollar slot