Miss Percival's famous jell-o molds were
the talk of every summer block party.
No one was sure where she had come up with
exotic shapes that adorned red benches
robins, and faces of famous people
they really were a thing to be envied.

One Memorial Day, though, there came a shriek from Miss Percival's kitchen
and the flowery curtains shuffled as they did so

The first ones in (the couple that brought the waldorf salad every year. It was good, but it was nothing next to Miss P's jell-o molds)
were Mr. and Mrs. Carroway
Mrs. Carroway almost fainted when she saw what was on the counter

You see, Miss Percival was fond of one site for her molds
and they shipped them in every month in big brown crates
there was a big brown crate, to be sure
but no mold inside

It isn't proper to gossip, but I heard that it was a bowl full of eyeballs;
A medical school had put the wrong address on their order.
I bet that there was a confused batch of medical students
being stared at by a jell-o model of Walter Cronkite.

I am calmer
when I do not wear
time
on my wrist.

The seconds do not tick past my skin,
like they do when I wear a watch.

I have enough time to become the waves of the ocean;
rays of warm sun against backs sitting on hills with friends.
I have enough time to learn how to love people,
and love myself.

I am limiting myself. We are limiting each other.
We do not have time to sit around
and calm down
because we're always pushing ourselves to the next spot.
Place.
Time.

Watching the curtains flutter was relaxing,

the window was open wide letting in a breeze,

it was evening but the air was warm,

and there was a strong smell in the air,

a summer smell,

it was one of those intense nostalgic kind of smells,

that flare up emotions with old memories,

and people in the gardens were laughing and drinking.

We were lying down on a mattress on the floor in your dad’s room,

both naked,

my pale white skin touching against your beautiful Arabic skin,

the colour of coffee.

A perfect mixture, sweet coffee and milk,

surely we were made for each other?

And you had your tiny arm wrapped around my waist,

your soft hand holding my chest,

and on my back I could feel your small breasts,

and your lips breathing hot breath down my neck

I was almost asleep.

In Orange County


In Orange County, Californiyay,
When you arrive at John Wayne Airport,
No need to show driver license or passport,
But be prepared for inspection to gain entry.

Are your teeth white enough to light the roads?
Is your navel hairless and clean enough to be licked?
Do you have two tats, if not, get going back
to wherever!

If your not blonde, produce pictures of your parents,
In any event, law demands, go directly to the colorist!
Everybody smiles and says hello, so friendly,
But having mastered the technique of doing so
While looking over and past you, rest assured,
Your New York sensibilities of ignoring the movie star
Sitting next to you on the subway feels like the ultimate,
True cool.

In this place the sun never sets, which is why the citizens
Have sunglasses surgically attached to their heads.
Have not seen a big nose 'cept mine
Being looked down on from people who by law
Must be a minimum of six feet tall.

Need my gritty, need my cabbies giving me the finger,
Need the senior citizens fighting tooth and elbow for anything on sale,
Need my rivers, need to bleed orange and blue,
Need my ballet, my museums, my rude compatriots,
Who rush to your side when you sidewalk stumble,
Who never judge a book by its cover,
Cause the jerk next to you is likely the author.
Who open their pockets and hearts to every needy person,
Hand extended, give 'em a buck, genuinely wish 'em God Bless,
They who let us share the fabric, woof and weave of our
City streets, their homes...

I got beach, I got mountains,
So maybe they're not visible from my living room,
But I got more living in the hearts of my fellow Yorkers,
Than there are grains of sands on the beaches of
Orange County.

The masses don't know shit and owe me zip
can't take care of ourselves wounded animals
giving others the slip, taking over the streams
water runs the show charging people just to sip

Birds flaunt their freedom over the tree tops
and through the cracks the envious
four legged things that slither
eyes p e e k i n g out of the dark thicket
wanting to fuck each-other over
how thoughtful

People maintain they evolved
from risen apes
but some think we're fallen angles
who raised the stakes
I think we just got better and faking
the whole time
justifying our destructive nature

Culture is the collapse of something greater

I'm sorry.

I know I haven't been
Talking.
So concerned
Yet
Not being able
To say
Anything.

I wonder
If you're fine.
I
Do
See
The messages
That pop up
Every day.
At least,
People ask the
Questions
I'm too afraid to
Ask.

You say you're fine,
That you're recovering.
Well
That's good.
I think.
I hope.

I don't even know
What
To think
Anymore.

So I just think of
Everything.
Anything.
But most importantly,
And thankfully,
I still know
I think of

You.

I really pray
You're doing fine, mam.
And I'm sorry
I can't talk,
Even when I do
It never seems
To be
To
You.

And sometimes
It hurts,
When I see your message,
But I have no idea
What
Or
How
To reply
And you just sit there
On the other side of your
Phone,
With two ticks
At the end
Of your message
And the status says
"Online"
But

Still
No
Reply.

I know you try,
Try to cheer me up
With the occassional
Kitty
Or random quote
Something,
Anything
To spur me on.

And I just lay there,
Typing
With one hand on the phone
And the other
Slowly
Grabbing
For the sheets,
Enveloping myself
In the darkness,
Wiping the tears
That

Fall.

The tears,
O they
Fall like
The stars in the sky,
Or
The leaves from the trees,
Falling
From the bottom of my heart,
My heart
Which hurts
For

You.

Something needs to be left unsaid.
Except some people loves to speak to cause others harm.
For the cheaters that creep.
What's the purpose of telling?

Notice that these suddenly high and mighty moralists wasn't thinking straight at first.

Some people has profit greatly from their dirty work.
For every sin within the world.
You find them all in the holy bible.

Solomon, the one many uses in sermon as wise.
Was no different than his father?
Who had a mistress on the side.

Like, I something needs to be left unsaid.
Cause those doing wrong will play like your words don't needs to be heard.

Secrets needs to be hidden from a few.
Cause the harm you done to others.
With eventually comes back upon you.

We know the line-those without sin shouldn't cast the first stone.
But there's always some that do.
And then feels hurt when their past emerges.

Just remember nobody's perfect.