On the Walk Home

I fucking love cats that scream as you touch them. 

The Corner

Where you can watch the best. Where you can watch the comings and the goings and how the elbows sit and the hips swing. Watch where the eyes fall. The shadows wait––for you darling––and you’ve got room to relax cuz no one’s behind you, breathing on your neck to make the small hairs stick up and tremble.  This is where you are safe. This is where you see everything. 

Not Glacial

I am only cold when I am pressed with pain, and the disturbance of it plunges me glacial, I look at the world through a glaze, no longer knowing my heat. Then words are spoken, best done direct, and the skies break, the ocean warms, the ice cracks, and my limbs return to natural order, I am back to where I was before. So full of feeling I am overflowing. So forgive me if I am too effusive of your writing or your beauty or your being. It’s not that I want to fuck you, or that I want to run the edges of my canines across your velvet, or that I want to steal a portion you are partly willing to relinquish, it’s that I’m a flirt and the whole world is filled with such wonder as yourself. 

I wear it as

a bedspread inside the house and a cloak outside of the house, though that is rarely. On my bed, yes. It is heavy, like myself, prone to animal fits of seizure, it gathers dust and collects dreams. A magnificent bearskin. Probably 100 years old. Back from days when the CA grizzly bear still loped the land, eating beasts and honey and bugs. It is my magnificent skin. I have great plans for it. I want to wear it as a cloak in my driveway in front of my garage with the car headlights on and do a number, scare the neighbors. I have brought it to Emeryville and many cemeteries; my sisters have worn it. I have lounged on it like Burt Reynolds. I am not sorry I stole it from him.

On Recently Acquiring an Iphone

Not alone. Not in my hottub or my kitchen or on the toilet or in my head. The people are in. They are swarming my peripherals and my screens, over my fingers, under my fingers. They are in. In me. It only hurts on and off. The best part is vibrations and full and replete and warmth and new messages. Now that I am never alone, the darkness does not surge. The darkness is dazzling and never heavy. It's worth it, this device. It's worth it. It's weight in my hand. 

When we were in New York

1. Shushan, NY

2. Bard College

3. Horse Ranch somewhere in Upstate, NY 

4. Central Park, NY

 

5. Brooklyn, NY