Tag Archives: people

Jasmine in July 

       We made a pact
                                        never to tell
                a single soul
how long did that last
    I wonder
                  I don’t know


             you made up this word
                                snaggleclatch
         you’d bark it incoherently
                                   until they banned you
                            from saying it at school


             we made a pact
’cause we even knew it
                way back then
there’s only one thing
worth living for


         how were we supposed to know
       a pact
                  like anything
            can die
                        a friendship bracelet
                        that no longer exists
          & once bound us together
     like bearings in San José
      near Nickel City


we made a pact
never to tell
                                                a single soul
     chugging jolt cola
               watching porn      wondering
                     how to pronounce cüm
         scrubbing the history
          even though we’d always hear
          your hot nurse mom getting pounded

Grandpa was a retired sniper
                  he’d let us scope in with no loads
                  on neighbors from behind the blinds
                  with his tricked out h&k
            we were out on the pavement dreaming
      of handrails
up to our chests
      we’d never be able to hit
             not in a million years


      I’ve never
been much a stranger
 to being watched



.


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The moment I left New York and never returned

Not that long ago
I woke up furious
at the blue light blinking

I wasn’t pissed that the txt
was from my sister—but that
you thought you could get to me
through her—I didn’t even read it
immediately after reading your name
that I buried in my past where it belongs—

The only thing I could remember
other than those cold dead eyes
that I wish I would have seen sooner

Was when you took me on a bus ride
I can’t remember if you lied about job hunting
or this was part of your reinactment
on how to make love stay
you knew it like you’d done it a thousand times
the same route that would be flooded
with a bunch of schoolboys
in uniform all looking almost incestually identical
& you turned to me and said emotionless
that it was your fantasy


Gem

The first time we met
dirtyblonde curlyhaired locks
with the widest ocean blue eyes
I may have ever seen just beaming
childlike and heavy

You chainsmoked camels
like you were nervous, excited,
or just happy to be talking art
which was plastered all over every inch of your walls & ceiling

The passion was there but the style & mastery
had yet to be developed—

You were from Jersey and couldn’t say orange,
always looking like a fairy with your thrift store dresses & jewelry—wearing daisys in your hair—you would giggle like a jitterbug at everything and it was contagious—we loved you for it—except maybe some of the other girls

It was just who you were—I remember you took a class
on how to weave baskets with a bunch of old ladies—it was a dying art soon to be forgotten you said—
we’d drive to the beach or chug wine out on the kayaks on the Manatee just shooting the shit watching the sunsets looking for the green flash—
I’d see you on rollerskates at Sonic smoking blunts in the back
waiting to get off so we could listen to the Pixies
& smoke more blunts or sometimes floral smelling goo—

We didn’t know what we were doing
you said you saw circus bears sorta dancing in the ceiling
and I’d really never seen anything more
than a cloudy veil of flowing golden faces at that point

I was never really attracted to you either 
but we fucked one night when we were drunk anyway just for the hell of it—
pissed your ex off when he found out—my friend at the time—you must have told him deliberately—he told us
we didnt know what we wanted, hell, he was right

You would talk about your family problems
and although it seemed kinda shitty we didn’t know
just how bad it was for you—you befriended Gypsy
this old crackhead in the jungle behind kmart who used you to get her things yet you adored her for a while

I’d been gone five years off and on since then
when you visited Amber and I in Santa Cruz during your road trip across the states
the jealous cunt hated you for being an old female friend
and I hated her for that at the mexican restaurant
where we both began to realize the dude that you were with
was a bit of a wingnut
you wanted to camp in a park
I asked if you were ok or needed a place to stay
you said you were maybe going to Mexico with him
and I sometimes almost hate myself for letting you go 
but what the fuck was I supposed to do?
Yo
u went to Ireland and hung out with a bunch of old dudes for a while you said—I could see it on your facebook—which I never did—not that I didn’t want to

Like a year after I got a call on my phone late one night
still with a Florida number after all those years
I would change it not long after
But it was my brother—not really—who
I’d not seen in forever having gotten lost among the hedgewalls of my life closing in on me again—
he said he’d been trying every combination of numbers until it worked for an hour not even knowing if it would be the same—he was out of his mind—said he knew she was crazy, but not that crazy, you know? 

Shitfaced & alone sitting in the upstairs attic-loft of my shack in Scott’s Valley with a Sierra Nevada and a spliff is how I found out you left your car burning on that bridge—I miss you, I wish, and I wonder all the time


[name redacted]

 

Used to crush fourteen hour days—
now I rely on machines

We’d all be sittin’ or standin’
there under fluorescent lights

Would wear my headphones most of
the time in my own world of techno

Snipping away at the moment meditating
smoking charas constantly for weeks

I noticed you looked young for your
age, a mother, late-thirties—you were
jealous of my speed—

Like a modern witch with your skinny
short dark hair, black hoody and pale skin—

They’d come and go maybe twelve in all—
but it was your intense energy

That stood out to me the most—
we had something in common

You were beyond me in some ways—
we had feet on both sides

Hands that had reached through other
worlds and everybody knew it—

How long we spent in this room was
irrelevant for we were somewhere
else entirely all along—

Seeing you livid on the phone brought me
some strange hope that I was not alone—

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / 


It was pure automata—one evening
you approached me from behind—

Scissors no longer in hand
you worked your way into my shoulders

My neck—my back straightened out—
you shifted something biomechanical
on the right side of my throat—

We both felt it move as I was subsequently
propelled from reality into an all-too-familiar
neon vortex of light—

Fuck I must be dead—just like that!
There goes my aorta!

Yet through the timeless persistence it became
apparent that back there I was still living—

You were still pressing
while I was still flying—

You were still standing
I was still sitting—

And no one else in the room
had any idea what was happening

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

When I came back I told you
and everyone else

In endogenous ecstasy and disbelief
all was fiery—aglow and reassembling—

The dynamics of possibility may reveal itself
as gifts you can receive only once—

What was this that set us apart—brought us together—
and is it that which makes us just like everybody else

 

 

 

 

21 ppm

                                                                  Ashiko palm
                                            punch the waterfall
                                  the sonic heart
                             distortion
               drops below
   the threshold
at the summit

            of time tightening
                             in the swamp
                                         sought
                                               when you had it
                                                     all along in chloride
                                         form unavailable
                    the lack of reaction
washed away and exudated
                         at the four ways and buried
                                                  forgotten until
                                                       you were volcanic
                              aerated by an erosion
                          in the throat
             a parrot dead
on your shoulder
                 a shoal lined
                             with atropine
                                          hydrochloride
                                                       and a gash leaking
                                        pure translucence
                        none of this is real
                   it’s so easily
unobtainable
           you have everything
                             you need to do it
                                                yet you’re moonless
                                                                lost



El Chapo

Yeah they got Guzman
                      again

        why all of a sudden
              the big deal
                  after all those years
   like it would make a difference
  alive or dead 

                                     it was all a show
        Mexico corrupted—disgraced—
look what they can do
now
everything is fine
        they actually used the words
                                       mission accomplished

                         he fell off a cliff
                     and broke his leg, nice
                  tanktop dude

              facenumbing piles
                           straight from the sack
                                 rolling up in GMC’s
              with gold plated AK’s

                    entire side of the house
                           lit up couldn’t see
                                  thru the smoke

        sugarskull
beheadings
        mass unmarked
graves in the desert
         all those enslaved

         whose to blame

                                 anhydrous hydra
the evergenerating sharktooth
          of prohibition slithers on
                   unscathed—how many
                                lives will be claimed
before it eats itself
           alive—and since you’re
                    just making room
                                for your families

       may your cartilage
disintegrate with your
                                 soul

People

There are those who speak
for hours on end
about other fragments of the land
we call each other
like rocks sitting in a river
unable to not ignore
the water flowing by

and I sit listening
like the melting of a candle
flickering the imminent
waxlessness of my creation
with nothing but nods to add
to my fluid disposition.

There are reagents being burned
by the fire spinning boys
making art in the dark
out of the shooting stars
that we are
left no trace
until something was injected
behind the expansion of consciousness
that looks like a universe
or a puzzle
or a mask
that when revealed
collected everything
behind the curtain
of the dead event horizon.