The Ol’ Hometown

There is nothing
I love more
than your morning
stretching out
from the sea
to the hills
and south,
pouring in
through
the trees
lighting  up
the forest floor
daring the
people to
stumble from
their trailer doors
for pots of coffee
at the Fisherman’s
Restaurant and
for mountain-people
drawl over KCRE
radio

My hometown
watches soggy
bottom toddlers
grow up fast,
JR this JR that

Often people
hit big trees
with their
cars and die

He was a good guy
He was a good guy

We scan the paper
for friends and foe
just drunk and in
the tank or
worse maybe

He was a good guy

Mysterious people
get engaged and
have babies
and they get
their pictures
in the paper
their shining faces
are from out-of-town
and I think
what are they
running from?

They come in
for good jobs
with the city

and never
leave

But every
day they wonder
why not?

Save the sunsets
and sea lions
their aint
much to speak
of here

This is Mundane Business

It’s all about
accepting the space
between really living
and the
face scrubbing,
dishwashing,
pajama-putting-on,
mail opening,
penny pinching,
toenail pickin’,
great-aunt calling,
lunch makin’,
list checking,
clock punchin’,
goddamn
car washin’
oil changin’
money chasin’
space
of
it
all

We All Remember (Cabin Kids)

We all remember
the running and playing
how we cursed darkness
and dinner bells,
tumbling in at
dusk’s very
last moment
before the sky winks the
day goodbye
catching your breath
before the
closed cabin door
waving goodbye,
Johnny, an unassuming boy
hollering have a good night!
hands-sapped,
knees-scraped,
buttons burst,
braid unravelled
We all remember
our hair stuck
to our foreheads
or long streams of sweat
dripping down, traveling the
length of our nose,
those ninety-degree
summer nights
We remember our
parents saying
I wish I could bottle
that energy and sell it!
before ashing in their
beer can,
white flakes
falling
on a
plate
of
franks
and
ketchup

The Time, Mother

The time you changed your name from Darlene to Brenda

The time you gave me a blonde baby doll and told me I had a brother on the way

The time you tied a friendship bracelet on my wrist and said now I’ll always be with you

The time we stopped to pick a rose on the shoulder of the highway…and it came with a bee

The time you made long, dangling hippie earrings–for a living

The time my room flooded and you cried because you felt bad

The time you bought ten hamburgers from McDonald’s and for the first time we all got full

The time we looked at a house we couldn’t afford and we all picked out bedrooms anyway

The time you took me to the Bayshore Mall and bought me an eggshell-colored Easter dress

The time you put barrettes in my hair (I don’t remember it but I saw the pictures)

The time you sang You Are My Sunshine to Cloud and I looked out the window and held back tears

The time you volunteered at my school library and I was embarrassed because of your short, slutty shorts

The time you lit a cigarette, looked at me and said don’t ever do this

The time I stole 2 cigarettes from you and you never found out

The time I realized our hands and fingernails look exactly alike

8:05 p.m. the time you gave birth to me, far too young

The time you failed to meet the expectations of your adopted mother

The time I knew exactly how it felt

The time your dad died and if you hadn’t already lost all hope, you really did then

The time you tried to wriggle your way into societies mold but it just didn’t work

The time you introduced yourself as Moonbeam and it all made sense to me

The time you socked my dad through the pick-up truck window

The time we left you in the dust

All the times you left me in the dust

The time you cried and said you’re sorry

The other time you cried and said you’re sorry

The many other times you cried and said you’re sorry

The time you googled me everyday for five years but never called or emailed

The time you said I’m so proud of you and in my mind I said for fucking what?

The time you said Enough already! and I said Okay

Little Girl Me

Little girl me
wore yellow rubber
gloves Dad bought at
Safeway along with Sun
yellow dishsoap
I would knee-stand
on the vinyl and metal
chair in front of the sink
in front of the small trailer
window looking out on the
ducks and geese and rabbits
in their cages
A kerosene lamp was lit
as the sun went down and the
night would come alive with sounds
Almost every night Dad had me do
the dishes while he would read
to me from the Holy Bible
They were nights I enjoyed
and miss.

Spilled Yet Contained

Today is an
in-between moon
my mood reflected
in the sky
A hot night
turning all the
ladies faces and
necks red melting
the glue that holds
together the teeth
of the man who
loves to speak
bubblegum pink
is the paste that
keeps his teeth
on the top and
his teeth on the
bottom
as for me
I think I’ll
stop speaking
for a while.
I’m applying
for a cashiers job
at the market and
between that and nights
I’ll be all talked out, the
energy settling less between
the sheets–less in the space
I’ve created for something
else, for someone else, less.
I went to a benefit concert
where I bumped elbows and
shoulders and some kid
put on a jacket and his zipper
hit me in the face
Today
Tonight
is a pretty blouse
a flower
on a wrecked girl
and I don’t know if I mean
me or someone else but either
way I’m coming around to her

I Love to Give Not to Greed

Is this romantic business?
Is this business romantic?
Put your worries in the wind
Make
This
Make
Sense
I am again
offering my plate
of sweets and dreams
and no I do not do this for kicks
No I do not
prefer torture
I do not love to
fool myself
Impulsive yes
but I am not
I am not
self-destructive
nor malicious
hanging heads on the wall
like prizes
I am doing this for you
not for me
I love to give not to greed