For the Kids of 286

We were rolling our eyes

and laughing through sighs,

"Like, it fuckin figures"

she said to me
As we belly up to beer cans all over the floor

Hallway hurricane dance parties outside my bedroom door

Dirty fingernails and noodles with butter

All we have is each other

Windowless Universe Warehouse Home

This is the first place I could call my own-

Busting bottles in the dark, roller skating in the park

howling out the songs of our savage little hearts

I leave my door unlocked and you 

can climb into my bed

If I wake up and you're gone

We'll let it go unsaid

I'll just see you round the stalls

While we're tagging up the halls

And spray painting our madness

on our neighbors walls

Baby, check that sadness at the door

That's not what these rooms are for

We got ceilings full of dreams and cracks

Hold ourselves together with old thumbtacks

And I'll scratch your back if you lend me a dime

We're all living on cigarettes and rented time

This is as good as it gets and all bets are off

As we cough up for coffee on our way to Starbucks

Odds are stacked, streets are packed, and the world is OCCUPIED

Just lay with me, stay with me, we got nothing to hide

Beyond this closed door, it's America's war

And no one out there is sure what they're fighting for

It's students in the park and

Drummers in the dark

It's our history laid out

like a long Boardwalk Empire

On fire and one step at a time

We go hand in hand in hand and cross over the line..

And if you write me in your rhythm,

You know I'll paint you in my rhyme.

Long Distance Charges May Apply

Last night, 

I lost my temper.

I raised my voice,

and fought back tears.

It wasn't you, my love, 

that my rage was sparking for

It was all the world around us

and the way it tries to let us down.

After you hung up

I cursed at my ceiling

and pointed my finger at empty space

and told it I would not stand for it any more.

All my life, I have held my tongue.

And let rivers rush over me, and blue birds fly by.

But not now. Not after you. Not after this.

I will not sit in silence.

I will stand on the corner and shout at the stars 

until you can hear me calling you home.

Back Seat Hurricane

The day before the hurricane
neither of us had to work
and we spent a whole day parked in the woods,
steaming up the windows on my grandmothers Saturn,
even though they were open and the rain was coming in.

Your bones pressed hard between my thighs,
I could feel every atom in your body vibrate
and compress itself down into the tips of your fingers.
We were soaked in sweat, clinging to each other
your breath lingering on my lips...

I can taste you now and feel you still.

Bearing down on me
until your hands were raw and I was on fire-
Burning up underneath you
in the front seat of my car
like teenagers on a Friday night.

The roof and the sky blurred together in a swatch of grey
Your eyes pierced the haze of
cigarette smoke and humidity.
I lost myself in the ocean of your salty skin
and drowned, gratefully, in your arms.

RAIN DANCE

Standing out on the gravel, I can see the storm coming.

Heavy and grey, rolling in from the West with steady intent.

The damp air shifts nervously, pushing back fog, gusting up from the ground

As the sky finally opens

And the first cold fat drops plummet to the clay.

Gathered on the porch of the red wooden shack,

We press back against the wall, away from the wide waterfalls 

That run wild over the gutters and spill out

Flooding the mulch walkways with ankle deep puddles.

I sink my feet into them and walk slowly,

already soaked,

to my car.

I want to stand out there with my face to the sky

Feeling the spirit of my ancestors

cling to me like my t-shirt

and dance to the sound of the thunder breaking.

But people are watching,

and the roads are flooding.

This is no time for a rain dance.

In the shelter of the car,

I strip down to my underwear and turn on the defroster.

My clothes soak the passenger seat,

and my windows steam.

I light a cigarette.

Rain taps out an angry rhythm on the roof,

and I turn the radio up, rolling through swamped streets

that threaten to swallow the vehicle from the tires down..

Halfway home the storm breaks, slightly,

turning over to soft showers singing on wet leaves.

The breeze rustles through tree tops, whispering the secrets of life,

And wet earth breathes the smell of an ancient memory,

Where once we dared to dance in the lightning.

TRIGGER FINGER

Stupid little fingers

don't go tapping out your morse code heart

to the one on enemy lines.

Didn't you get the memo?

Brain says we don't feel that way anymore

and She's got Heart under lock and key 

for insubordination in the ranks

Now confined to solitary...

Stupid little fingers

wanna give it up quick like lightning

like virgins in backseats

taking back promises they crossed over hoping for

Stupid little fingers

picking at the scabby plastic suture threads of

open triple bypass surgery

patchwork blood letting

Stupid little fingers

tippy tap dancing 

on the keyboard of regret

you don't hit send til I tell you to

Stupid little fingers

think they run this joint

but I'll cut them off

if they don't stop straying.

Back To Basic

DISCONNECT.
I spent two months in self induced solitary.
I had no internet service and only basic cable.
I didn't frolic wildly with friends, or obsessively check my emailfacebooktwitter.
I worked, and counted my pennies, and tried to climb out of debt.
I hung art work on my walls and curtains on my windows and unpacked the last of my boxes.
It's only been four years since the move.. Feels like sanctuary again.

CELEBRATE.
My Aunt died of cancer over the holidays.
Made me appreciate my appreciation. For everything.
The wonders of life.
Fresh produce and clean dishes, a cold glass of wine, early morning sunlight.
Running in snow with dogs, laying in bed with someone you love. Chocolate.
A good cup of coffee. Working the body hard. Letting your mind dream.

SIMPLIFY.
Life is too sweet to be filled with the bitterness of worry.
Life is to preciously unique to be compared,
one individual to the next.
We all march steadily to the grave. It's not a race.
Overflow your numbered days with the deliciousness of things you love.

PAY ATTENTION.
You are missing all the beautiful details of this magical exsistence.
We are water and iron and electricity
and we are spinning through space towards our destiny at the speed of thought..
And that right there is a miracle.