History

Strange tapestry of invasion

Displacement
Settlement
Resettlement

Buying
Selling
Ex­change

One idea
Supplanting another
To satisfy the needs
Of the time
To slake the thirst
Of the powerful few

History

Reflecting movements
Of generations
Upon generations
Until we ask

Where is home?
Where is home?

The great Ginko tree
Can live
Three thousand years
In one place

Watching
History

Watching
The migration
Of people

fem in isms,
i imagine Sapphic eyes:
bad *** advert coruscates elite
fairness sensing slavish blind
in gestate calm affirm
in genders More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--
O harsh judgement foiled,
as a foil, as unknown truth
foil-doubles in the brow,
abject symmetry to systemize
a fertile lack of sterile barrenness,
i am a mediatrix rend,
nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside
from transemotion's ground swells
demeaning to be understood.
i celebrate and face the same
to be what paperwork tests being
normal being, freely chosen
atom each belonging moves
an asterisk of paths
of mutate art of nature social darwin maze.
i imagine Sapphic eyes,
ginko soft they pile up all cobble
memories themselves concretely
cloistered  fame
spray of salty waves,
macho screams symbol
for dismissal ease
for tearing at an inner unsaid war
with lists offense of proper taste
to what posterity intends
an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds.
i imagine Sapphic eyes
past
debauched
meanderings
where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular
and reliable escapisms curl the lips
of maleness found
here and there  smile  sneer love
i imagine Sapphic eyes
linguistic pirouettes
congest that wisdom nonetheless
the moment passed  on to a
feigning truth in pretty rhyme
ornamenting time with fine  meter  fine
vernacular chimes peter in
to juggle perspectival paradox,
redichotomize the twilight idols,
resolve the conflict like a dawn
Aurora,
i imagine Sapphic eyes
running plastic with Alaskan wolves,
toga floats to snow
to let us see the purest fairness form
a ****** circle,
Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave,
Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now
with Wollstonecraft revered
in liberation's fount
families held exemplar gaze of
Taylor, ******, Cady,
Anthony resanctified
to vote entitlement's
empathic origins, waxen mold
of nascent categories,
narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew
the manifest evolve in true unknowns

Mother Nature has a way of helping all of her beautiful creatures
She offers chamomile for when your mind is keeping you from sleeping
Passion flower for your constant worries and woes
Coffee to keep your eyes open
Ginko biloba for when you fail to remember
St John’s Wort for the melancholy that you can’t shake
Lavender for your head’s physical pains
Ginger for those cramps that seem paralyzing
Feverfew to relieve you when you’re overheated
Cannabis to escape all that troubles you
Mint for your when your stomach upsets you

Mother Nature’s healing powers should never be overlooked
She will tend to your wounds
Internal or external
Because Mother Nature cares for you
And you should care for her too

By this time of the year (In days of old and times past)
we would already be
                                    
                         ­             skipping off
              
               onto deer trails--------                
^^^^^^^^^^in the woods of Fairview park.^^^^^^^^^^
-
at
    the
          bottom
                   ­   of
Stevens Creek runs through
                         those
                                 steep
                                          hills.
-
We will dip our toes in the slow, murky water
(James came to town)
as the thick, sweet smell of my burning cigarillo
(and the whiskey fell into our glasses.)
lingers on the water's surface.
(It was a race to see who would pass out last)
It is here that we are young; No moss clinging.
(and be the one to see him off at dawn.)
-
That old ****-colored truck with the key broken off in the ignition
will take life with every well-used car I'm in. "The Brown Trout".
Marcus called from the 24-hour gas station on Eldorado
to tell you he broke the key in the ignition and couldn't seem to get the ****** truck started. We gave comedy its due.
What could we have done at that point but stumble into the blue?
I recall forty girls & boys crammed into an efficiency apartment that night
as the bathroom vent sapped the room of smoke, liquor stench
and Nag Champa incense, while the dense fog
of budding lust hung in stasis over our heads.
Boys on the exit living out their tree house fantasies;
drinking away boredom and skateboard injuries.
-
Phantoms of the apartment buildings
(Do you remember Dipper Lane?)
at the end of West Main tell tales of past tenants.
(I seem to have forgotten your name again.)
What does it feel like
(Did you hear something?)
to be a home away from home?
(I've been alone this whole time.)
-
It's four years later and the bikini tree has tan lines,
they cut down the ******* walnut at my old house,
and built my ark from its wood.
Supple leaves line the Sylvan Queen's Kermes colored hair
as we sail for higher ground.
Now the stinging sunlight cuts through the cracks in the wood.
-
I'm examining the border of a much larger picture.
Even now, the resolution grows fuzzy.
You are a leaf on the five-hundredth page of my dictionary. Ginko.
I placed you there on a particularly sunny day in July
when the Magicicadas woke up to the sound of Joe Cocker,
and we both learned the language of the spheres.

ginko soft they pile, strewn on cobble
memories themselves concretely devised
cloister inward, revise, revise, revise:
debauched meanderings fully marble
escapes to curl the lip, adorable
here and there, whether smile sneer incise
linguistic pirouettes or paler lies
congest that wisdom indefinable --
the moment past moves on to feigning truth
with pretty rhyme, for ornamenting time
with myths to filter in an Avalon,
juggle perspectival paradoxic ruth
with fine meter fine, vernacular chimes,
and resolve the conflict like a dawn

ginko and tulip tree,
along the path.

walk to clear the mind.

further, there are
stepping stones.

walk to the stone,
glimpse black butterfly.

farm to the right,
distant sound.

the gate is locked
at five.



sbm.

-for my mother-

Some days I catch you sleeping
my legs are as long as yours now
Somewhere in the past, slipping
about, I'm still learning how
to speak. Even all these years on
I'm still searching for my voice
which you've always silenced
the May rain pours down outside
the days are long & ragged
some nights we see the Moon
& it sings it's serenade to us
In our old place we used to play
the piano in our living room
Moon River, Edvard Grieg
& buy fresh brötchen from the bakery
or walk beneath the ginko & linden trees
or talk for hours on the phone
The phone never rings any more
You buy yourself Comte cheese
a memory of bygone luxury
& we leave our garden door
open sometimes when we're in
& watch the slugs come in
& think of how things change.

.*brötchen - bread buns ( german)

Stagnant silence
From a boy who loves plants and the stars
His wonder so shallow in such grand things
I try but heart not wavelength overflow
Just sad attempts at a love story
I don't know how to overwrite

These feelings of flaws within myself and him a barrier between potential
A room not a house and this love can only grow so much without withering

I want to get high in a room with tapestry and record player
Till static
Sitting on a couch of content

I want sweetness and misunderstanding from a maple born

I want a love that tore me to shreds
With infinity in the ginko leaf I was growing in my left hand and coffee and stories and dreams in my right

But here I am settling
Like a sailboat
Forever without wave

Dear cancer plant loving boy
This room is full
This love is dry well
With parched desert skin
And the shadows we are becoming by the dimness of this love

Love in all its forms.
When bred it swarms.

It warms better than a layered coat.
Floats better than a catamarron boat.

Cling to it when sinking into this abyss called life.
Shed your leaves of strife.

Hold on to its bucking reins
Hold tight despite the pains.

Kick off your boots,
Soak it up like Ginko back to its roots.

But most of all love to love................