Astronaut

Your orange jumpsuit
takes me by surprise
helmet under your arm
and messenger bag
swung across back

I smile so wide I can hardly see
escalator steps stretching
in front
tripping
I want to walk behind you all day
spectate the trail of smiles following

I wonder
when you were little
did you wish to fly those shuttles,
before the Challenger made you cry in front of the TV?

Do you long to trade
your two-wheels whizzing
weaving down 2nd avenue
wet pavement
deliveries to law firms
for trips to
different galaxies?

Or did your roommate
simply stumble across
the iridescent outfit
last week
at the thrift store
for cheap?


Influence: Wells Fargo Building, escalators, Friday before Halloween

Fresh Snow

When my feet could not warm up
turning white
then see-through almost blue
hot water
brought
them back to life

Fresh snow on the Olympics
simple
white, blue heavens
Adams
in the distance
how clear it is
after a storm
always
hindsight
to remind
yesterday's gray
was worth it

Rain I

Rain,
did you decide to dye the color
of your hair?
Gossip with the wind
to spread thin leaves
patterns left on streets
we can't quite read

Rain,
do you chase fear?
Did you listen to the
clouds before mandating
this gloomy day?

Rain,
would you run after me
as a lost lover?
Do you sneeze and hiccup,
in addition to weep?

Go Away

Cold,
Go away
and
Don't come back another day
Don't find your way back here
ever
Don't be like the rain
It has just started
and
it will do this lingering
this lingering
water puddling
drains flooding
nose dripping
chest heaving
sneezing
legs tight, stiff and antsy
from just a few days
without running

Cold, go away
and don't return
I'll write bad poetry
at you
til you're gone

Our tongues endeavor

Young woman
what will you say for yourself
if you have no
language to speak?
no tongue shapes
learned to wrong
rites
right
rites
these practices
vowels
constant sounds
count syllables
know how many footsteps
to safety
where to go?
whose world do you live in-
can a man
be counted upon
to save you always
save him from the others
while you
lay pregnant
still words no words
to describe your belly
and
watch the world
don't worry
to vote
I hear
your muffled
breath
under the pillow
he still
holds


After watching film: The World Unseen

Days Like This

Hip Hop Poetry Church
in the morning
More literature
fireside chat in the afternoon
and
a reading in the evening
in a small, tight-knit bookstore.
Meeting someone who's
a hero to you.
Getting the chance to tell them
they are influential
and
say thank you.
It's a good day
in poetry-land.
It's a good day.
Period.

After attending City Arts Festival Events

The Once Child

She wields a gun
It is not her own
Most all she handles
has never been made for her or
by her
Specific products
for specific buyers

Tonight
she gets to choose.
She is a buyer,
a killer
a something-almighty
tonight she is
the one with the gun who chases
herself
and the one
who runs


After watching the film: "The Fish Child"

New Growth

There are flowers
tall as me
growing up your
torso

I want to jump in
walk beside them
let the yellows,
pinks, and lavender
hues
glide past my eyebrow
barely brush up
against an elbow,
tap my shoulder

Flowers growing up
your torso
billowing,
composed
and wild
how we shape
our outsides
to match
the insides

Fall.Sunsets

Catching the last tidbits
of sunset
smells like sea
Olympics riding
their own
waves to
eternity

Ferry terminal
bell rings

Listening to: Tegan and Sara, The Con

In Cal Anderson Park

In Cal Anderson Park

memories of girls

flow down the volcano fountain

Not drowning

Not swimming

Floating on the top

like an old styrofoam cup

too light to sink,

not a coin

heavy with

wishes

Gold Sacageweas

collect

forgotten purse bottoms

not fitting

the slots of

machines

win

attention, digital enemies

to beat,

stuffed animals

to be carried home.

She never fits.

Composed early to mid-morning. 10-18-10

Influence: reading "Sorry Trees" - Eileen Myles

listened to: Compline, St.Mark's

Version 2.0

Luckyclouds v.2.0

Officially released today, Monday October 18th to no local fanfare.

I decided that I wanted to post some of my poems. I figured a simple way to do this: just use a blog I already have set up. I cleared out all the old entries this morning. It was quite satisfying. (For anyone who's interested those ramblings are now saved in a secure location).
Someone once warned me about posting my poems online...something about copyrights.
I don't know all the copyright shiznit. I'll put it on my to-do list to read about. So if I submit and/or any of these get chosen for publication in some prestigious journal, then I shall have to take them down or reprint them with permission from the author. Good thing I know the author.

Speaking of being an author, that's the coolest thing about blogs, right? We're all authors now. So write in. I'd love to hear from you. Or point me in the direction of your poetry, blog, fiction, nonfiction, music, sketches, loveliness.