2/20

when breathing is
like tight rope walking
frightening, even with practice
could it get more intense?
between high rises.
look down if you dare
it's one of those things where
you just have to keep it moving.


6-9:20am
it is happening now
it started when you woke up, showered
spilled coffee on the counter
had to fill an empty gas tank
then, catch more traffic in your mental net
turn that corner and step into work
as tight lipped and tense as a fiend without a fix


9:07am
hmmph.
look at all those young people
tattooed arms, pierced faces
pants falling down
hanging out
wearing flip of a sandal for a foot flop


4:57pm
where is 5 o'clock, computer is off
you walk down the hallway, and push
exit doors to freedom
Ah, the first breath of outdoor air
Relief swings for a minute
and halts as you unlock the car.
A sure standstill
by the time the news streams until you're uncomfortable.
It does not matter, this chaos.
You cannot change anything.

'what cd do i have in here?

hey, what's this guy cutting in front of me?

why can't i just get home?
i'm hungry what is there that's good to eat?
probably, not even leftovers. God.'

5:08pm
Again? look at all those young people
smoking cigarettes,
they look like fags
disgusting, you can't even look at that patio.

Highway, highway
here is the entrance, thank God.
(exasperated sigh)
'Got to see if i can work from home'
get out of this dirty city, traffic and trash
choking the streets between sidewalks.

(phone ringing)
Hello? Yeah, I'm on my way
just got on the--
No, can't you pick up something from the store?
Go out? No, I had that for lunch yesterday.
I don't know, can't you figure it out?
It's work, rush hour,... can't you just think of something?
Ok, bye.

5:30pm
Patience the size of breath
shorter than an ant
smaller than a pepper corn

Exasperated or sucking air
compensate with extremes

But, who's ever lunged between high rises?
Who has ever looked down and not panicked?


Epilogue
(One breath at a time
One step a time
repeat for mindset, for today
and however long you choose.)

2/18

sunshine helps

i’m taking my brain for a walk, without a leash
in the park

i’m threading my heart on the fish hook

i’m taking off my feet and placing them in the closet
and then setting my teeth on the mantle

come to my home if you want to see my toothless grin
how i am in my own hula hoop

not ruled by should but by a content I am...

opening the blinds to let light pour in
buckets and streams of unwired, natural volume

i open my old mouth
and gulp rays in a matter of blinks

neon glow backbone
laughter orbits from here
quiet
only stars burning light pockets
in the sky

let me stuff my dreams
inside all of them
unitl they hang out
the way dollar bills, and
grocery lists do

like dusting the top shelf
it's a reach
but it's not too far
it's safe
not to give to another human heart
the stuff of dreams
packed into pockets
safer by mars than...
you know

reflections

Last night I had a dream I met Bill and Hillary Clinton. Bill had to step out and take a call. Hillary and I talked about power. In the end, on the stairs down out to their/a car, she asked if I had any cigarettes. No, I did not.

Yesterday I did meet Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Lacy Clay.

I walk around in capital city and feel both big and small.
Grounded from the stories and lives, streets of St. Louis where I've "come from"- I don't want to take any easy road out. Anyone can write a letter, can speak-- anyone can be open to learn, to engage in the democratic process. It is all so possible, and I do think the advocacy* effort makes a difference in creating awareness and pushing change, like an orange wheel barrow- farther down the road.

What do I want? I want to be an organizer.

*advocare ‘summon, call to one's aid

uno ahnyo

one day, i
reached out my arms
like to hug an ancient tree trunk
hands far apart
right side of my face pressed
to the gnarly bark

i remember
never wanting to let go
of holding onto something
so deeply rooted*

even when she created a tornado
to sweep her up
to get wrapped up and away

my little heart told my little hands
keep- holding- on

one year later
it is a new day
my hands reach up to the sky
free, grateful
and feeling
sun light freckling my face




*in hindsight, it was me
who wanted her roots to sink deeper
what was there and what wasn't -
well i fooled myself for awhile
until it was too clear too ignore
how easy it is for the shallow to be uprooted-