Tag Archives: california

Sometimes I think about Oroville

Like a tweaker panning for gold
in the dead drought dessicated crick like a slot machine about to give way

Like the white cessna stingray
in May failing at low altitudes
at seven in the morning

Like a gang of deadeyed palepasty zombie kids
twitchpicking their way thru
a market that doesn’t give a fuck

Like the nine gram rule
that kept everyone out
and everything in

Like using a helicopter
to pinpoint where to falsify
your thousandth anonymous complaint

Like packs of water bottles lined up
several hundred yards away
who knows how many rounds of .308

Like two dudes getting a handy in an old Chevy
by a tweakjawed crackwhore between them by the tracks

Like how they always wondered if it was Sour Diesel
& one of their corrupt colleagues got caught
moving stolen packs back east

Like that real raw look on their face
everyone has from the brutal heat beating down
through the toxic valley air

Like winning 10k at the casino
getting drunk and dying crashing into a river on your way home
the cash floating downstream



Old friends

I once had a friend
who was a paedophile
It’s just a phase I swear 

Someone found his stash
at a gaming party
when he passed out first
we all saw what he thought was hidden

We didnt even know how to react—
so we made fun of him and called him a CPA ’til he figured it out—

He used to wish me a happy birthday on 11/11,
was the last of my old friends that did so

But when I’d get drunk—I’d get loud—I’d
get crazy, unpredictable and insane—
and he would shush me to be quiet
like he was still afraid
after all that time
I’d write this poem out loud
for everyone to hear

Windows has a whole new meaning huh

We know
what you’re
hiding in
the vatican

We know
what you’re
hiding in
the vatican

It isn’t
just your need
for the mouths
of children

We know
what you’re
hiding in
the vatican

Death smells like lemongrass

they used to burn these woods all winter

now the summers do themselves

they had a system worked out
that would emphasize the abundance

the entire territory was the garden
alive and growing like the mind
stepped outside of itself
and began to dance

time’s pole shifted a while back—
yeah—we were in reverse now
didn’t you know—

it’s not a place
until you make it one

like a ring just to see
what your limitations are

how well can you put last years
lessons into practice

a game of hectares, furrowslices & spreadsheets

a temple of agronomical meditation with mantises

when you’re there it consumes you
because it is you because of you

the pregnant deer barrelrolling with a smile
over your first edition fence

a place not to play god but to laugh quietly
in his face—the silence blowing thru the pines

you go there not to forget but you end up doing so
honing in on the accuracy of inputs and outputs

compost teas and microbial inoculants are to soil what kombucha and kimchi are to humans

observation becomes communication
every day—every hour sings a different tune

the finches sneak roosts in the trees 
that weren’t there before you decided
to put them there with leaves tracking the sun

bred, birthed, tended, ammended, and cut down
after eight months of watchful eyes

peering down and counting from the blackbird in the sky

it’s the same song by an evolving band
never once played the same way again

you were either there for it or you weren’t…

lentils spiralcrawl the trellis next to hairy vetch, cowpeas, and carter flax

what started as an idea and came out of a wound
of the corrupt earth to colonize with mycorrhizae

under the moonlight and with the stars we move slow like kelp
into our dying selves taking pictures

of the natural beauty—the sustenence of our meddling—the deathsmiling work at dawn

bees land on the battered tools and machines
some of the butterflies know to evade the bamboo deerfence

brought down by something as simple
as a foot of snow and ice howling

on paper you play the less goes in
more comes out game while battling hazard after hazard

like caltrans spraying fusarium infected cyclamen
on the side of highways to eat weeds

now the amber jars of essential oils
of lemongrass ginger rosemary peppermint
and lavender are miscible on the counter

isaria fumosorosea in the fridge
will mummify them in threads of mycelium
from the inside out

would a buddhist let her buds rot
or would she feed the caterpillars
bioinsecticides for supper

would she breathe and eat the spores of decay
or kill the ones that would cause it responsibly

you can’t bullshit yourself in the garden
it’s right there in your face all the time

everything you’ve done to make it that way
you switch it up—you stick with what works

you learn from your mistakes

even when you leave it you can see it like it gets sucked up inside of you and you carry it around

like a bluejay does a pine needle

you want to know that what you’ve grown
is nutrient dense with proteins

mineral balanced and alive

free from heavy metals, pests and diseases

not like the sugarpacked shit they sell
as produce at most supermarkets
sprayed with cheap deathchems in tyvek

this world is bleak as fuck—doomed to a slow painful death

but it isn’t in the garden

or it doesn’t have to be at least
you spend so much time as one
you know what to expect

you do it right and it can provide you with almost everything you need

all the worries lugged around as a human
dissipate among the quinoa, crimson clover, and buckwheat
at the bottom of the hill

the seeds of medicine to be cherished
in their infinite variation in the fall

where the garden doesn’t end
because of the bad weather
it doesn’t crawl into it’s cave
of the mind and hibernate until spring

they hire seasonal workers come croptober
to hunt us down like bucks on the highways

the garden comes from the mind
and so it returns 

sometimes it shows up in small baggies
in urban areas where people dream of gardening someday

The elephant woke up in Mexico

When they built the wall
all they had to do was dig tunnels

They did it so damn well
the Israeli and Palestinians took note
on the other side of the earth


Ten years ago they took the moneys
out of the banks

A silent protest
heard around the world

You remember
the recession

The only liquid capital they had
was laundered and withdrawn

They called it a crisis
like they did when they sold
all the junkies into their scriptwritten plunges

What do you think happened
in those ten years down there

Over a hundred thousand dead

The sinaloa not taken down
but allowed to grow—
coaxed & cultivated
building tanks—laying lateral waste
to everything in opposition
until hijacked

Parade Shorty’s head around the village
like you actually made an impact

You ever wonder why the sewers
in Tijuana fail this time of year

Why the beaches in San Diego are closed

How there’s always a house
connecting another house 
already beneath the wall 
to keep us in

Sunglasses at the racetrack in Kentucky

They say all forces
coerce in pairs

Like our appetite
and their unmarked graves

Como prohibiciĆ³n
y plata o plomo

Desaparecido

Round ’em up boys
you gotta earn your marks
you gotta get somethin’
to write home about

The only reason
you would deport
an underlying driving force
of our economy
is to disrupt it
and that makes you
for a whole new reason
our sworn enemies


Orexin

It’s funny to think
about how hormones
are drugs produced
by your body
that control almost
everything that makes you you

and yet we know that isn’t true at all
—we are something else
entirely—how could we limit ourselves
to this dead iron flesh when we were
full spectrum fountains of light—

and yet that was all just an idea
—like the last full moon passing
before planting when the pull
on our waters are weakest in the dark

observable, testable—like
the last poem
in the works before the poetry
of being works its hands
of vines
into autumn’s lines

you call it
wakefulness
but you know
I’m not too sure
about that
anymore