bear necessities

everything feels different
these days
like
tattooed hips, goose bumps, you
make my skin ache
in a good way
that taking your hair down
from a pony tail way
or putting on sweats
or taking off too tight shoes
way
ill play the same song
on repeat
until you get it
that it would take broken axels and
wildfires to
quit these
wagon wheels
ive got nothing but time
on my side
sundays in livermore
its a heatwave, dancing with uncle jack, el
vato, el vato, the
violinist
too many pigs in a blanket
all the old ladies wear
purple clothes and
ask, girl, whyd you stay
far away
we try not to talk about my mother
no one asks about you
no one knows
you
like i do, you say
over indian food, your
tummy rumbles all through the night
and i have nightmares, stale
dreams, wake up
on my back
and youre not there
not really, anyway

things feel so
very different now
i never know if we were going
to the same place
and now were all phone chatty
and text messagy
about some party, some warehouse, some thing
that happened in oakland somewhere
its just distance but it is everything

its just a feeling, but its different,
your writing will explode, you tell me
pulling me close, the hardest
youve held me in weeks
and it doesnt take much, i think, it
doesnt take much

featured monsters

on sunday
we gnash and fight
smoke blunts with three girls
who dont really want to
share
sarah looks like death and
olivias mouths the words
to songs she doesnt know

i feel like im dancing
like ive got something to prove
my ears numb until i pass out
dream of you as a little boy
crawling into my
lap and sleeping, i scratch
your back and neck and kiss you until
youre purring, how
terribly accurate
and prophetic our little
mosters are

let me see your teeth

im searching for violets
among snow
tiny glitter anthems
and slop buckets
that boy is no monster
youre more precious
than an heirloom
grandma marion places
ceramic santas on mantles
and we shiver and shake
hands held under hanukkah dinner table

lets move, lets live next to
a bridge with open fields
play soul music and drink
40's on a monday
that night you
fire man carried my best friend through
the streets of the mission
you were it for me

i like kissing you over
room service heat and
dirty laundry
im looking for that clove smoking girl on the hill,
remember her?
you make me want to find
her, again

im tired of the ha ha
tired of the lols
you don't remember how it felt?
cigarettes and fruit punch snapple
kurt vonnegut, long toenails arent funny
just because I adore you -
doesnt mean i dont want to laugh

I'm tired of faking it

sunday night loft party you were the
guy with the attitude
high on house
and asking for pills
it gets less complicated with time
until were all just fiddlers
on fourth street
baring our teeth

too $hort tuesday

a little "blow the whistle" and "strip down" not to mention "money maker" and thats just talking about the latest stuff, sets me right on this gray tuesday. such a different perspective than yesterday. something bout hoes and tricks, bitches and pimps really gets me moving and as $hort dawg says, you got to want it to have it.



this song reminds me of driving drunk with jose through the city. yeah, ill call him out, we used to get DOWN to this song. she sets me right.



today is much better than yesterday. i keep myself busy, positive. my boy makes me feel better and too $hort makes me feel like a thug, a hustler, they both keep me in line. remind me i CAN do this. im in a much better mind set and dancin round the apartment, ready to take on the world.

i mean, seriously, this song is so tight. i remember this coming on in clubs when it first came out and kids would go fucking ape shit. ballistic. sweaty hair, chains flying, thiz face, biiiatch, shit was crazy. makes me proud to be from the bay. makes me think im crazy to think abut leaving it...i mean, no one does hyphy like we do.

and for my final act

tonight ill be reading some new pieces at Amnesia bar http://www.amnesiathebar.com/Amnesia/Amnesia_-_Home.html on Valencia.


should be some other great readers from 826 Valencia http://www.826valencia.org/events/2009_12 and cheap delicious beers and specialty cocktails served.

i hope hope hope of all hopes to see you there.


xo gkitten

day three

today is worse than yesteday despite it being sunny and slightly warmer. i wear a variation of what i wore yesterday, boots, jeans stuffed in, thick big scarf, i go through phases where im just wearing my night shirt out under my coat, i like the smell of slept in things, i pull my bangs back and only wear mascara, maybe a little lipgloss and PRESTO im 17 again and that brings up feelings old and new.

this morning i try to swipe some some color onto my cheeks and put a braid in my hair, try not to look so much of a mess, at least i showered last night, let the water take it all away, backed up into a corner all crying and sobbing, its pathetic really but it felt good and i walked out clean and red eyed, but feeling more like a person i guess, at least im feeling something even if its sad.

today i feel purposeless, i spend my morning looking through books and reading about agents, going over any and every writing job in the city before realizing i have to actually be writing something substantial for that to work. i feel like im not good at anything today, i cant even love you the way that i want to and that bums me out more than anything.

if i were to leave you, where would i go?
i cant seem to think of any other way to make this work, its wearing me down. i dont like this girl im becoming. san francisco, youre treating me bad, taking me for granted. i just wanted to love you, thats all, why you gotta make loving me back so hard?

i listen to the playlist i made you, a little over a year ago, you were sick, or feeling down and i wanted you to be better, i thought these songs could make you happy. i thought that i could make you smile again. its grey days and were cold and i dont know that everything will be alright either. but i listen to these songs and dream about you riding your bike, years from now, listening to them to and feel a little bit better. maybe they can help more than these words of my own.


a little depeche mode on a wednesday and its all good.

preachers daughter

day two of being unemployed is alright. its frigid freezing, mine and vitos noses drip icy cold as we walk 24th street. two men in their 40's buy bags of recycling off each other on folsom and vito and i weave in and out of the madness on this winter day, he noses all the fruit stands on mission and stares, head cocked to the side at homeless people pushing shopping carts, playing guitars with missing strings for change. at one point he stops dead in his tracks to watch two men converse in spanish, it is an easy story over cigarettes and coffee, a morning chat and vito stands at attention, almost listening. it happened so fast i keep thinking, winter did, without warning, and last night i have to rub my feet furiously together in bed to keep warm, adding more blankets and eying the heaters in your old apartment, unsure how to turn them on. this morning we find new ways to create heat until you say, breathlessly, im not cold anymore.

we walk along guerrero after a while, along san jose and i lift vito up onto a brick wall and he runs along in tiny white winter flowers that smell sweet and dirty, like urine all at once and i want to take a picture but ive got mittens on and the moments gone before i can think twice, he hops down, cars whiz by, sketchy boys walk past me and give me the creeps.

last night im going through my books to see if i can find this jonathan franzen book someone gave me, for a birthday? christmas? i cant remember, but years ago, and i had liked it, even though i hadnt wanted to. i was trying to find this quote i remembered from it and leafing through the pages turned to re-reading other books, books from people i remember better, from faces i think of more often, which turns to re-reading journals and dates and i keep telling myself this is a dangerous business, turn back now but i dont and find pages and pages that i have to type down to get them out again, old things rise up and i rip things up cut them up tape them up to the fridge. they are all a part of me, of my life but they are behind me now, in dated notebooks and files and i want to leave them there. most of it anyway. dont worry, i try not to write about the bad stuff so much. i find a page from when i was still at state that starts with "all i want is to..." and i think about lunch with lawrence last week and dinner with b last night and the conversations, the surprise at someone being able to answer the question that begs "forget money and obligations, in a perfect world, what would you do that would make you happy?" and if you find that, is that enough? and how do you know what it really is? and will it always keep you happy? and is your happiness benefiting from someone elses? and vice versa? and are you alone is all this lovely happiness or is someone floating around with you? and even if were some of those lucky people who know what it is that we really love, how do we put it into action? how do we make it fit our lives...or our lives fit it? maybe ive had it all wrong this whole time, trying to figure out how to fit writing into my life when i should have been fitting my life around it. cultivating a type of life that i love and everything else will be natural. i was intrigued. what had my younger self said...how had i answered the question. how different would it be from what i want now?

with so much free time these days and so so much going on in my head i am trying to KISS. keep it simple, silly. this city is such a heartbreak town, just fighting the current, trying to keep my head up. im trying to practice what i preach and i hate the idea of not following through. if in the end nothing amounts to anything, what will all this time have been worth? god knows, im learning things and beginning to understand, but when will things start making a little more sense? when will i get into a groove?

this week i will be practicing everything i wrote on my "all i want list..." years ago to see if my younger self had it right, if it makes me happier, if i can trust that it really was school and two jobs competing for my time and breaking my balls years ago...i know she talked a lot of big game and she sure did have a lot of fun but lets see if i can, as they say, practice what i preach.

good job, gucci

land of opportunity

my options for work now that im laid off are "Flash Action Jedi, Sr. Marketing Manager, Piano Teacher or Head Lice Technician". Its looking dismal and im feeling depressed.
wtf.

broke back

kona coffee for breakfast, keyboard
and nighttime trembles
its traumantic
youre
too real to touch
fill books with all the
things
we never say
pages between your legs
i know what girls want but
do you
ill build a beach house
made for two
its lucky you got
lips like sugar
its the writing
front and
center
i just can't stop dreaming about
graphic
vanilla skies

deer girl

i wasnt shy enough the first time
littered coffee cups, try again
kisses at bus stops
critical thinking and that
smile
its like
climbing shoes with holes
I zone out on purpose

memory bank

i spend my days at the library now, angry at them for only letting me use the computer for one hour even though no one is waiting in line. i stand at the desk staring, tapping my chanel loafers, like, hello, no ones even using them please just bend the rules for me.
but it seems that no one bends the rules these days, no one catches a break. when something good happens its by sheer force, not luck, not karma, but will determination. you want that mountain to move you better move it yourself.
im doing things i never thought id do. im an unbearable person to be around and i cry at everything. my guard is down, my walls, so carefully built up are around my ankles, in piles like rocks on the path up bernal hill, dont walk around here in the dark without shoes on, you will get hurt, nothing is safe here anymore.
im not an old maid though and so today i wear a short skirt and my legs are pale november, pull up lime green knee socks, swipe on hot pink lipstick, there will be a time, an age this isnt appropriate anymore. but not now. now is the time to be all young and wild and carefree. i had forgotten that, had gotten so serious with myself.
im going through all these emails, trying to prepare this zine, a blog, a song, a book, a notion, trying to make something out of all of this and i find some things that surprise me, that make me reemmber who i am. i want to make a booklet, something to carry around with my sisters songs, and your lips when your sleeping, like a bow, and vitos smell, his puppy paws and how warm he is all snuggled up tight, i want my friends perfumes and their laughter, the sound of our voices against streetlights and heels on pavement, beating this city down, take that city, take THAT. how do i get all those things wrapped up into one feeling? how come no one tries to write the intangible? or do we, can we? im going to try.

wishlist

this bag is what i need for the holidays. oh and f you heidi, didnt you just have a baby?

baby, run

taylor swift singing one of my favorite country songs (yes, i like some country music). why is she the most perfect blondie killer cool angel girl ever?

like i believe ryan gosling would love me if he met me i too believe that me and t-swizzle would be bff's in real life.

googly goo im a free bitch baby

THIS is what im talking about. keep it up, gaga and step up, world!




i need to take my own advice...


congratulations are in order to one of my oldest and dearest friends...miss carrie is getting married!!! (that name rhyme!)

heres some lovely photos of all that really matters...

halloween

this morning IS fall. i wake up to wood burning stoves and heavy, icy fog. i didnt dream of you last night but i wanted to...of our pumpkins we carved, all in a row.

skyscraper

sixth (?) note left on train

besos.
i dont know what my favorite kiss is. that kiss hello or that kiss goodbye. i could wrap my arms around your neck like that forever.

dia de los muertos

i didn't mean to make it hard for you
to anyone with pictures of the naked ninjas on halloween
send them here
"550 steiner"
an apartment i used to, with people
i used to
and the girl i used to
be

im not so sad anymore, its true
sometimes I fantasize
about
going bananas at
starbucks, screaming
grande lattes
cause erectile disfunction
like a rob zombie concert
but i dont, we get pumkin
drinks instead, sip them at the beach
death metal
on halloween is so cliche
but hard to beat
.. ._.. _ _ _ ..._ . _._ _ _ _ _ .._ -
ive stopped the
fuck and run
tried to rock you but you only roll
i wish it could be me
with all these
opportunities
moonlight becomes you
like a red-haired
verbal asault
and
im ready for the
next 100

pocky and overalls, bandanas and pie

the japanese get it all right, all the time.
tonight i want to go to mission pie and eat a delicious slice. something with huckleberries or pecans. something with a crumble. and black tea. no, coffee, no, tea.

its so wrong. i was totally imagining my hott boyfriend in these outfits. this gramps is so fly though, fo reals. i KNEW i shoulda bought some overalls when i was at the surplus store...what, oh, what will my winter staple be???






please go here

http://limitedhype.com/2009/10/unused-lookbook-2009/

for more shots of gramps workin it out and deliciously workmanesque menswear.
i love a man who gets his hands dirty...carhart please?

5th note left on bart

i love kissing you in the morning
in the middle of the kitchen
with vito watching, his little
tail wagging

4th note left on bart

you were too needy.
i was too wild for you. all screaming matches on market street.
my girlfriends and i causing trouble, making
cat noises and breaking glass at your friends house.
admit it.
i freaked you out.
your new girlfriend seems nice, like she was the softball captain and gets
along real well
with her mom.

3rd note left of N train

dear trinity,
can we still be best friends even though i dont tell you everything?

youre the only one who would really get it anyway...

2nd note left on bart

maybe this is all a mistake.
please, please tell me you dont think this is a mistake.
because i love you.

note left on bart 10-20-09

(in cursive)


i love you. i love your concern for my feelings.
howd you know somethings wrong?
i kissed you the best i could...

project/project

leaving love notes, note notes, and kinda notes behind on the bus, sometimes with names, sometimes with my bis card sometimes in cursive (mostly in cursive), sometimes real, sometimes fake (mostly real), all times making me smile, get up and run quick styles off the bus up the stairs, peek back to see if someones reading it (mostly not) and it changes my whole day. like im getting things off my chest. i wonder who will pick them up but mostly i like leaving them. the writing and leaving. im going to do this as much as possible.

like wolves

the perfect monday. long walk with vito. back into pajamas. time to think. no cigarettes on the deck, just clear lungs and your delicious smell in my hair, this morning im thoughtful and cant stop. theres nothing, wrong dear, i dont think..nothing that cant be fixed anyway.
just give me time. and bon iver. and silent mondays.

ET phone home

b tells me i need new shoes. but i only want to live in a world and have a job (or where THAT is my job) where i can wear THIS.








http://www.nytimes.com/packages/html/style/fashionweek/runway.html#spring_2010_mcqueen%20alexander


because looking like an alien is so hot for fall.

lesson plan

i take the book you made out for coffee, walk along clay until it crests over hyde and i can smile again, weave past grace cathedral, 40’s and shorts on the swing set and i fall in love with you at Front Porch drinking drinks with kumquats and rum, flicks of salt disappearing, lips pressed to mason jars, wrappers leftover from japanese candy, 111 minna, some girl’s gold necklace, lamp light reflecting, grey goose and art galleries, thick throated and insecure, while north beach vomits strip clubs and boutiques, scares away hipsters, and at 3am i make a home for you in the space between my breasts, mismatched fabrics hanging over head, cork board alley smiles and

what’s your name again?

mal practica

id give you the shirt off
my back, youre saying
all playful puppy eyed shoulders
give me those freckles, put
them in my mouth
raindrops are eyelash
hugs, keep
making lists, lover, we'll
get it all done
babies, birds and that
lady in an orange dress
were so distractable
in our pigeon holes, wet naps
and canteens
be my life preserver
formaldahide me in your promises
that space between your neck and back
like
wild horses and kittens

please, lets fly to paraguay
shoreline light flirting
with hands wrapped up
at the
baggage claim
dont take everything so
personal
dearest darling bear boy
were a two person
mime troupe, come
talk to me in hands

the ice chest

tin night cap
worn in sheets, rain and
real fireflies
find stains on suit jacket, glance
knowingly, heavily grooved
tongue trail
everything was champagne,
sex, firefighting and scallops
i love your voice
pressure cook me in
the atlantic, hold hot
panic
stricken joints
like wands
girl with bedroom eyes
you wont find
explanations in the ether
waiting like a crocodile
until it's too late
how many more sets do you have?
tall tale telling
just because

theres just one thing i have to do first

last night i have a dream
that makes me question everything
and i wake up
sad on such a
perfectly fine day
i hate fine
i hate changing lanes
like flailing, mid air, after
rock jumping, creep hopping
your skin is a place
i could live in like a city
street goddess
since i cant sleep, and dont want to call
i told you I would write you one
okay you can quit now - (i guess i knew )
fortunately
two penguins can find each
other after
despite long long distance
lets be like deep sea fish, glowing
behind eyes, mate for life
you are so beautiful
trying to change lanes

meteor might

canyon eyes
our love reflects
an avalanche of breadsticks
clean carpets
tahoe blackjack

food bin line
la selva beach
you really should be honest
stop giving your love
you changed your hair cut
meteor shower and the red moon
mildly wild and evidently nonexistent
(inside the 7-squared miles somewhere)

what if i say- i just want to lay next to you, then what -
you are stranger than him (and just as likeable )
so strange and likable -

something likes the ocean
(rhetoric)
under armour
where the wild things are
you must really love her
talk of surfing and a non-profit
welcome home
bow tie boy
eye-flirting between missions


what do you do when you have nobody? -
fate brought us together
playing, like kids, in the creek

i need a running mate

im an unattractive
candidate, i know, but
ive got a bundle full
of pencils
from all over the world
color sorted and rubber banded
doesnt this count for anything?
i love foaming hand soap
and steam rooms
breathing in laundry
until im lightheaded, spun
laundry tells a lot about a person, dont
you think?
please dont judge me
i wore a tag still on a shirt today
she caught it
cut it
with sharp shearing scissors
we talked about his tomatoes
(why cant i ever shut up)
i was planning on returning it, to
afford it, to
give it back
whats a girl gotta do in this town
to catch a break
its make or break
noodles and butter nostalgia, some
home i once had
i had a home
i cant swallow anymore, just
thick lumps and clumps and its
a poor thing, dry
noodles, i flush
them down the toilet
everythings bubbling over
pink towels, sop it
up, soak it
up, dear god, cross your fingers, dont
let me mess this
up
raccoons and radios, tan shoulders
and smooth bellies, roll over
i love your lower
back
and foaming hand soap
certain toothpaste and dry
roasted nuts

run this town

what a
waste of
red nail polish
i want you to
miss me, dammit
cute mustang girl
coastal crush
go on baby, be a
poet and patriot bartender
we are both the same
same healing touch
and we never finish what we start
thanks for letting me sleep soundly
your kindness once moved me
what happened that night
i miss the ruby room
riding with
low air in your bike tire
you were such a
great kisser
that devastating tongue
soothed me

public transportation

youve ruined
certain songs for me
i cant listen to opening
chords
without recoiling
scarlet behind eyes
i want to say
thank you, when i see you
with my fist
a meeting of flesh
isnt that what you
described it as once?
how terribly illicit
this bus is broken down,
baby
this is creeping me out
i told you i would
meet you at the beach
and its just full of
emptiness, full of sharks
youre no
renegade
you just have a
nice skirt on
tomorrow
will be an ambush (almost trapped)
im
just wondering what youre up to
you beautiful blond on sunday night
complications, situations, and timing
well, well, well
code talker
youre just
gold throwback
tired manhattan
standing all alone

distant dreams

in another life we would love each other, you think, drinking white wine in full mason jars by the edge of your couch. you are proping yourself up against cushions and calling people you havent talked to in months because it will feel better to talk to them then someone who may actually know how you feel. when they ask "how are you" you laugh so hard in the phone that wine drips out your nose and you are smiling and chatting and say "things are fabulous, my life is so great right now."

west coast chai

buccaneer beauty
you know that i know
about her
gypsy girl
you say curtain, i say cotton
you can never over think laundry detergent
its proximity to
skin
ocean empress
princess babygirl
the clear view
damn you're good
those fillmore eyes
let me count your
freckles again
i swear ill
get it right

the longing

don't be cruel
this shall soon pass
you secret squirrel
seven months later ill still love you
im leaving soon
and i want to have a
little fun
sign stamped envelopes
lick the sticky
these nights
out our back door
im hooking another sunday
on the hat rack
of spickets
the long shooter who gave me a semi-private show
stop stealing names, like zoe, that
used to mean something
lets take the fast track
such pretty eyes
you have scars tattooed behind your ears
windex clear view
dmv this morning
powell station crunch
insignificant places, significant
faces
have you met my sister?
west coast to east coast
were all just birds
in mid flight
i realize that I'm not o.k
ultimately ill find myself
missing you

the key to resiliency

if words are all we have
why am i still hiding behind them?
i wish i had some words
of wisdom for you
and just because were talking about real life
doesnt mean were
telling the truth
im angry at you
doesnt even come close
to what i mean
what i mean is
youre ruining my life
im pulling tales from cyberspace
to accurately
describe how i feel
a corner casualty
doesnt experience
pain, like knives
like pills
pain killers
isnt that funny?
that girl in the red truck
will never know that
you smiled at her
unless you
tell her
i dont want to make long distance calls
for you anymore
i cant bridge the gap
with a drive over bridges
youre so locked in
find you in blankets and stuffed animals
count slowly, one, two,
three
while holding your breath under tunnels
words arent all we have
lets not limit ourselves
i have you and you have me
but not in the ways we want
not the ways we need
i promise ill start telling the truth
i promise when i burn
this to the ground
no phoenix rising
there will be outlines
heiroglypics
to make you feel something
make you say it out loud
like
i hate hospital beds
i hate how skinny your wrists look
under my old long sleeve shirts
i hate you only call me when you
need something
and how about im tired
sleep isnt even sleep anymore
its just trains and hair dressers and nightmares
we learn from the best
you gave this to me
take it back

safe spot

good choice
foolish people -
don't leave me this way-
gone and eventually forgotten
you cant tell me how you feel with
all these
elephants in the room
its a
silent film festival
you and your "rad' colored dress
i'll tell you
ten lies that kill men
little miss
closing girl
save a washcloth, lick a face
tiny kitten licks
i'll pay you off like
student loans
at my own pace

writers on writing

its fitting, dont you think
that we sleep on a bed
of books
hold us steady through
a dance off
thick paper bound books
just read the time travelers wife in a day
i sleep to dream
these nights
spiral coils
shrunken mattress, i only sweat the bed
when im alone
skulls tucked up
under chin
jello legs and fragile
temples
hold me in place, put
words under me
support my frame

distraction

the best timed
exit music
only happens in movies when youre
falling falling falling
in life the sound of
your back to me
is deafening and terribly innapropriate
dearest
this city is surrounded by water on three sides
wait for me at the
ferry terminal
when I want to smell like the beach
heres an understatement -
we share the
same moon-
im just a girl with bubbles
1984 printing machines and
you told me I have a beautiful smile
the way things are these days we have to
hold on to something, cause here comes both barrels

soon it will be july 2
some greying hair wonderland
were all just
divine dolls
en route

were so close, i can feel it in my bones

this is a
success story
exploitation of minors
PERSONAL SAFETY TIP


my SEQUOIA soulmate
you were supposed to go with me
I have finally realized and accepted
your hands were made
for fireworks (for me)
this business of art
wont kill us
enough
re read things
what were you doing in 1993?
in the haze of mission cliffs chalk dust
your voice like
pottery
i wont forget balcony dreams
(picture us there)
how much i missed you across
worlds
patagonia snow
i want him to hate me
so you can love me
lately love me
dont worry baby, youve already been
a world traveler
snake fireworks line up like
presbyterians
we were so american
silly office crush
TU SABES QUE TE EXTRANO
round midnight
why won't you let me love you

george

my morning wake up routine

dance like i got ants in my pants.


http://www.yooouuutuuube.com/v/?rows=18&cols=18&id=pAwR6w2TgxY&startZoom=1

side streets and are you going to pay for that?

remember when I told you that I dreamt about you the other day?
i meant it
i dreamed you and woke
up with your legs
lovingly locked
drive golden gate get lost forget make time
travel
traveler's wife
dreads and a Mason jar
such stunning stimulants
4th of july, walking ritually
street lights exist
pockets of darkness, she
found her way back
ingrained though intoxicated
you pulled me from the wreckage, dont
you get it?
im not broken anymore
glasses and ny times
it's been a little weird
i've been hypocritical but
i'll never give up
on this
in precita park
its so obvious
friends wont get lit on fire if they mind their own business
two men in a teacup
saucer eyed girl
deep breaths under fig leaves
it smells like home, it smells like home
dont laugh at me
i need
help with a physical address
in removable white tshirts

imagine this scrawled on the bathroom wall at (fill in dive bar here)

destiny brought us together
you stood on the toilet seat
my mustache
captivated your heart

she had her chance and
if it ends today
its about you
toi et moi
who pulled me off the bed for a dance

youth and weekend wars

in the last couple months i take so many trains and busses i forget where im going and which ones will get me to whatever place im calling home at that exact moment. home has withdrawn, become an internal thing. i have found a home inside myself, inside you, inside all of you and so, in fact, home, as a physical place, becomes irrelevant.
he tells me i mind as well be 17 and i couldnt feel closer to this right now. heading to calistoga for a weekend that will inevitably bring up that 17 spirit, that girl i was there, that place can make me feel so different, so alive and stagnant at once, but everythings different now, i have him and more importantly, i have myself. i am not that girl, im alive, completely, and from the tracks ive traipsed around this city, very much moving, not stagnant, not even a little bit.
the mission is alive today, pregnant bellys bursting out of tube tops and people hollering at each other on every street corner, resting languidly on fire hydrants, a picture of inner city, this is an inner city, did you know that? and all the sudden neighborhoods become real and tenants become neighbors and its a different city when its hot. when the paint on the buildings is slick and shiny, oily almost, like foreheads and lips, and so i try to shake everything else off thats weighing me down, i let everyones mood calm me, this hectic boil, this furious fight, we all just feel like we might explode.
on saturday we go to a party in the hills of el sobrante and john is taking us there so my stomach is a little nervous, like right before a big night of partying, that salivating, that expectant wonder, that nauseaous nervousness, like just about anything could happen. we park on the edge of some street, oak hill road, or wildcat canyon, in the country even the street names reflect themselves, they are dark and i have sharp eyes, you can read that?, adjusting to midnight concrete roads into forest and one million stars. we pass people walking in the heat and i feel 17, walking up kortum canyon or sharp road to parties at kierens house where everyone was older, shifting from foot to foot, measuring alcohol by how many words tumbled out anxiously in hesitant corners. its hot enough to just be in my dress and we walk onto the deck which is right pushed up, tucked into thick trees. a light projector shoving thousands of tiny green lights into the night, coating the hillside and night sky with tiny green dots, like fireflies, like gems, like magic. it is incredible and we smoke weed and listen to reggae and meet nice new people and have nice easy conversation. hippy mamas dance with sleeping babies and moondog rolls joints and kisses his men friends on the mouth and when the little kids get too tired they all sleep together in a room at the back of the house, safe and warm. i cant stop looking at his hands, the side of his face, the shape of his ear. he is like brand new to me. unexplored and i want to watch him, distantly, because doesnt everyone fall in love with someone just a little bit more from afar? could that even be possible? more in love? b walks with a cane and john is actually tired, we sit on a ledge built separate from the deck and an older man takes photos, whats he staring at? and we look behind us, the lens zooming in at our easiness with the night, behind us is nothing and everything. we are literally on the edge of it all. at least, for that moment, it feels that way, tiny green dots splintering and spotting our foreheads, dotting whites of our eyes.
im still learning, i realize, i dont actually have anything figured out. i think thats when everything will slip slide away from you, when you think there is some great thing to figure out. we need to stretch and challenge ourselves, our minds, i never want to feel that way i felt again, and i can say that, knowing that i will, that i will be unbendable, i will be scared again. i will be afraid of losing it all. but when we realize we dont have all that we need, not just yet, it seems theres nothing to fear. im still guessing and taking chances, im still messing up and saying things that i shouldnt and always, always, feeling things that are bigger than me, making it hard to hold them in your hands, in your hands, but i know that now. i give myself big points for trying.

tiny insignificance

you dont leave me
napkin notes
post it notes
note notes
anymore
i should have just
pretended i still think of you once in a while
today, it's today right?
lets question everything
or just go
skinny dipping
assumed adventures
while your skin turns
yellow
are you being discreet
or understanding
of both our
feelings
youve got to quit running, man
youre splitting the tip jar,
the velocity of our lives
such a pending
love story
such little white lies

its not you, its me

san francisco is an artists town
theres no room for writers here
not anymore
and i understand
ive run out of things to say about you too
you used to be my beacon, san francisco
when did you turn all
psycho ex girlfriend on me
when did you
become untrustworthy, such a slut
it would be easier to be an
artist, im thinking
get naked and take a few photos
of myself
and explain how
totally vulnerable i am
how this is me
all tattoos and extra flesh
and sadly, seductive sterile smiles
look at how pretty and creative i am
you think youre so smart
san francisco, im disappointed in you
(imagine my shaking finger)
you promised me things
unspoken
you held me late at night and nursed me,
rocked me
buried a well of security
deep, deep, down
dont you remember?
youre pretty slick, san francisco, in
fact you almost had me fooled
but im not like all those others
those "i like tea and reading and being creative"
bitches
they can suck my dick
i wont be 30 and boring with no stories, SF
why wont you stop telling the
same ones
im (bat, bat lashes) falling asleep

no ones taking showers anymore

i never spent so much time in the library when i was actually in school. the library here feels better. in h's apartment there are too many voices in airshafts and memories, and head swirling silence. i cant sleep past 830 anymore although there are no fire trucks or puppies waking me its just my own self, just me, waking my own body up. and thats how it should be. no one else matters as much.
today, all day, i want to barf. maybe it was the pizza before sleep, maybe it was those three words, vibrating, i miss you, and its a wild goose chase. you spelled her name wrong you know, but dont worry, i found her, flashy hands and its all summer fickle birthday bash barn dance and you make me sick. i think about you this morning, fingers pulling at t shirt, thin nightgown, i rose and lifted higher and higher for you, belly buttons, clean walls, new smells, i was all. most. there. but you can forget it, dont mispronounce my name again, it gets stuck in the back of your throat and you look so ugly i cant bare it.
no one wants to lose their shit in the library, oh lord dont shake me now, no one wants a panic attack, someone rushing to get water, i need fucking water, im yelling, bangs stuck to my forehead and i cant see straight, if im dying how much of my life flashing before my eyes would have you in it, if i cant see your face one more time, ill die, if i see your face ill die, walls close in and the library is swimming, now we are swimming and you, just a distant figure lit up by some lighthouse, some lighthouse pointing away from you, pointing me home.
but really, what am i talking about, talentless bitches running their mouths and i know how i feel better than you do. lets open up the freeways and drive blindfolded, let those car crash dreams come true. we should be reckless with ourselves, our hearts. you were reckless with mine. lets waste hours and drink tea out of our hands and fuck until were the same person and you wont have to remember my name. except for that feeling, some smell, years from now i'll still have you looking over your shoulder on street corners, checking under the bed, for monsters, ghosts, i'll still have you reading my books, mornings you cant leave the house, i cant wait until youre sending me cards still on my birthday, to an old address you have, cause i wont live there anymore.
i cant be blamed for anything anymore. i remove myself from all your bullshit situations and im not ready to talk to you. thanks for calling though, you really ruined my day.

i wish you would have studied spanish

lets have somber conversations about
art and movies
read tropic of cancer on the train
and talk about how utterly brilliant it
is, how organic
you feel
how about, you be a
cardiothoracic surgeon
and ill have a
cast on my foot and fancy x-rays
and well figure out how to
fix each other
its not your job, but
to the pretty girl
it seems inevitable
that you would love her, 9 to 5 her
flea market beauty
ceramic baby scarfing down
sunflowers
look at you, running
with stars on your arm
to the gorgeous brunette whom i thought was a whore on friday night
quit
being pushed around
youre still cheating
bookstores
returning them read
i make great bagels in
mourning
on blossom hill
cant we just
camp underneath surfboards, build
waves on our backs
and in tired dawn
scratch the parts the water touched

whats mine is mine

this isnt my house and this isnt my music and the tv wont work and the cats not mine and i only know its name because of a letter once written and posted on a fridge "theres a ghost in my bones" and signed, gilbert. and so i call that to the cat down the halls, to the kitchen, these beautiful girls sleeping upstairs, their faces brown and haunting in a house with no art on the walls and no doors. you cant shut out other rooms in this house and its a nice feeling to curl around the doorframe of the office as their mother says goodbye, i feel young, wanted, i feel shy and nervous which i am not so i hug the wood and when she leaves i wander the rooms, the floorboards sqeaking where i dont know they will, rough blankets on the couch, different smells but it feels like a home nonetheless. there is love here. you can feel it. and the only thing i can smile about is the cats name, making me awkward laugh cry because no one likes to smile when their sad.

coco gypsy is dead and buried
between the dried out spaghetti squash
and the tomatoes
i wont get to see turn red
and ripe
a summer like summers are supposed to be
and nothing is the way its supposed to be
i tell my dad
on the phone
bags over shoulders, gripping hands,
slicing pinkies, throw some more weight on top of
me, i can almost breathe
ive managed to shed my skin
all over this city
leaving only new, bright and shiny
gabrielle
and i dont know what to do with her
ive slept in so many beds, none that
are mine
and toilets, bathrooms, kitchens, corners
of hardwood
all become places to hold me
to change, to compose, to
have a moment
because thats all i have right now thats mine
this means im adaptable
according to my research
i am ready to enter kindergarten
i can adjust to non-ideal
situations
but i cant find anyone who wants me
who will keep me
i cant find anywhere to keep my things
not even a car is safe
not even a heart
and so here in this strange house
with no art walls
organic vegetables and thick
wool blankets
and beautiful sleeping girls
i break down
can i just stay here a little longer?
i need a moment
that doesnt move so fast
leaving cuts between my toes
and breath, short,
whiskey dipped
i need a moment to have these tears
they are mine, right?

gangbang

those who can't do
dance with their girlfriends
until were brave again
at four am, you have
Amazingly Beautiful Eyes
like it means something
it really doesn't matter,
sweet talker
were a
lollipop generation
suck and blow
( i cant stop staring at your mouth, you say)
the intimacy in this room is
so quiet
are you listening?
its as if we are meeting
for the first time, SF
(kiss kiss)
leave a message in a bottle
and imagine
all the fun well have
board walk beauty
atlas girl
take me to your chicken coop
lets hatch eggs
i wish i were young enough
to have the chlorine without the
cigarettes
the morning without
the noise
that staggering silence

my heads all mixed up

im trying to think of what to do for my birthday while simultaneously thinking of what to do for designs on my nail set while also contemplating my summer life goal.

when i googled "birthday ideas" for fun this is what it came up with, its kind of an interesting list:

"This is it! The Big List of Kid's Birthday Party Ideas shared by readers across the nation and around the world since 1999.

The Big List of kid's birthday party ideas are categorized by theme and listed alphabetically. Find the theme you are looking for and read through the party plans full of ideas for invitations, decorations, games and more!"


THE BIG LIST of Birthday Party Ideas
50s - Rock'n Fifties
60s - Groovy Sixties
70s - Seventies Disco
Airplane Party
Alice in Wonderland
Alphabet Party
Amazing Race
American Girl Party
American Idol Party
Animal Rescue Party
Apple Picking Party
April Fools Day Party
Aquarium Party
Arabian Princess Party
Army Party
Around the World Party
Arts and Crafts Party
Autumn Harvest Party
Baby Einstein Party
Back to School Party
Backwards Party
Backyardigans Party
Ballet Party
Barbie Party
Barnyard Party
Barney Party
Baseball Party
Basketball Party
Batman Party
Beach Party
Beach Party (feature)
Bear in Big Blue House
Beauty and the Beast
Bee Party
Barney Party
Bob the Builder
Book Parties
Bowling Party
Bratz Party
Breakfast Party
Bug - Main Page
Bug - Bumble Bee
Bug - Butterfly
Bug - Caterpillar
Bug - Ladybug
Buzz Lightyear
Butterfly Party
Camping Party
Candyland Party
Care Bears Party
Carnival Party
Cartoon Characters
Casino Party
Cat in the Hat
Cat Party
Caterpillar Party
Celebrity Party
Cheerleading Party
Cheetah Girls Party
Chef Party
Chinese Party
Chocolate Party
Christmas Party
Christmas Cookie Party
Cinderella Party
Circus Party
Clifford the Big Red Dog
Clown Party
Color Party
Construction Party
Cooking Party
Cowboy Party
Cowgirl Party
Crocodile Party
Cupcake Party
Curious George
Dalmatian Party
Dance Party
Dance Star (feature)
Dinosaur Party
Dinosaur Paleontologist
Disney Princess Party
Dog Party
Doll Party
Doodlebops Party
Dora the Explorer Party
Dr. Seuss Party
Dress-Up Party
Dress-up (feature)
Easter Party
Elmo Party
Eloise Party
Egyptian Party
Fairy - SUPERPAGE
Fairy - Main Page
Fairy - Princess
Fairy - Tea
Fairy - Tinker Bell
Farm Party
Favors
Fear Factor Party
Fiesta
Fifties Party
Finding Nemo Party
Fire Truck Parties
Fire Truck Party(feature)
Fishing Party
Food and Snacks
Football Party
Frog Party
Games
Game Show Party
Garden Party



Gilligan's Island Party
Goodie Bags
Gymnastics Party
Halloween Party
Halloween (feature)
Handy Manny Party
Hannah Montana Party
Harry Potter Party
Hello Kitty Party
Hockey Party
Hoe Down Party
Hollywood Star Party
Hot Wheels Party
Hulk Party
Hunger Caterpillar
Ice Cream Party
Ice Skating Party
Incredibles Party
Indiana Jones Party
Jasmine Party
Jimmy Neutron Party
Japanese Party
JoJo's Circus Party
Jungle Party
Karaoke Party
Karate Party
Kim Possible Party
Kite Flying Party
Kitty Cat Party
Knights of Round Table
Ladybug Party
Laser Tag Party(feature)
Lego Party
Lilo & Stitch Party
Limo Party
Lion King Party
Little Einsteins Party
Little People Party
Littlest Pet Shop
Lord of the Rings
Luau - SUPERPAGE
Luau - Main Page
Luau - Beach Party
Luau - Lilo & Stitch
Luau - SpongeBob
Madeline
Magic Party
Magic School Bus
Magic Tree House
Makeover Party
Mall Party
Mall Scavenger Hunt
Mardi Gras Party
Mario Party
Mary Poppins Party
Masquerade Party
Mermaid
Mickey & Minnie
Miniature Golf Party
Miscellaneous -
Modeling Party
Monsters Inc. Party
Movie Theater Party
Music Party
My Little Pony Party
Mystery Party
Narnia Party
Nemo Party
Nursery Rhyme Party
Olympics Party
Oscar Party
Parade Party
Party Favors
Penguin Party
Peter Pan Party
Pharaoh Party
Pink Poodle Party
Pirate-SUPERPAGE
Pirate - Main Page
Pirate - Caribbean
Pirate - Girl
Pirate - Peter Pan
Pirate - Tinker Bell
Pirates of the Caribbean
Pizza Parlor & Fun Zone
Playdoh Party
Play Party
Pokemon Party
Polka Dot Party
Pony Party
Pooh-Winnie the Pooh
Pool Party
Powerpuff Party
Power Rangers Party
Princess - SUPERPAGE
Princess - Main Page
Princess - Alice
Princess - Arabian
Princess - Aurora
Princess - Belle
Princess - Cinderella
Princess - Disney
Princess - Fairy
Princess - Jasmine
Princess - Pocahontas
Princess - Royal
Princess - Sleeping Beauty
Princess - Snow White
Princess - Tea
Puppy Party
Quinceanera Party
Racing Party
Raggedy Ann Party



Rainbow Party
Ratatouille Party
Rescue Heroes Party
Restaurant Party
Robin Hood Party
Rock Star Party
Rock Climbing Party Rodeo Party
Rolie Polie Olie Party
Roller Skating Party
Royal Princess Party
Rubber Ducky Party
Rugrats Party
Runway Model Party
Safari Party
Sailboat Party
Salon Party (feature)
Scooby Doo Party
Scavenger Hunt Party
Scavenger Hunt - Mall
Science Party
Science (feature)
Scrapbook Party
Sesame Street Party
Shrek Party
Sixties Party
Skateboard Party
Sleep Over Party
Sleeping Beauty Party
Snow and Snowman
Snow White Party
Soccer Party
Sonic the Hedgehog
Spa Party
Space Party
Spiderman Party
Spirit Stallion Cimarron
Splash in the Backyard
SpongeBob SquarePants
Sports - Main Page
Sports - Baseball
Sports - Basketball
Sports - Bowling
Sports - Football
Sports - Karate
Sports - Miniature Golf
Sports - Olympics
Sports - Rock Climbing
Sports - Soccer
Spy Party
Star Wars Party
Strawberry Shortcake
St. Patrick's Day Party
Superhero-SUPERPAGE
Superhero - Main Page
Superhero - Batman
Superhero - Hulk
Superhero - Incredibles
Superhero - Power Ranger
Superhero - Spiderman
Superhero - Superman
Superman Party
Surprise Party
Survivor Party
Sweet 16 Party
Tea Party-SUPERPAGE
Tea Party - Main Page
Tea Party - Fairy
Tea Party - Princess
Tea Party - (feature)
Teddy Bear Party
Teenage Ninja Turtles
Teletubbies Party
Thomas Tank Engine
Three Little Pigs
Tie Dye Party
Tinker Bell Party
Titanic Party
Toy Story Party
Train Party - Main Page
Train Party - Thomas
Train Party - (feature)
Transformers Party
Under the Sea
Unicorn Party
Valentine Party
Veggie Tales Party
Veterinarian Party
Video Game Party
Watermelon Party
Webkinz Party
Western Style Party
Western (feature)
Who Wants to be a Millionaire?
Wiggles Party
Willy Wonka Party
Winnie the Pooh
Winter Snow Sledding
Wizard of Oz Party
Woody & Buzz Lightyear
Zelda Party
Zoo Party
Zorro Party
4th of July Party




PS. i only googled this because last years b-day was so great. and i want to do better this year. AND how much do i want to do a Kitty Kat party???

recession

today i see kids copping a tag in front of general with mustard. a big, yellow, tube of mustard. i could smell it. i wonder if this is what the recession looks like.

anthems

just listen to old
music
like from
when you were 18
and the music, older
ancient dancing
around tackle boxes of makeup
and whiskey
rimmed lip stain
get ready face off

walk quickly through apartments
dont leave your
tracks
on carpet
you hate the feel
of it undertow
clings to all the
heels of your
broken
thrift store shoes
just nails
and hardwood makes clicks, like clocks
speeds you up
walk lighter, make less noise

dont get too attached to things
fill out applications
use your full name
and tell him you
love him
because this is all you ever wanted
remember
THIS

quit pretending
fill bags full of food
and take them to the hungry
we are closer than you think
i just want to hug my sister, i just
want to look someone in the eye
there are more bags than things
space is limited
but ill take you on
ill move over
clear tables
allow corners to be dusted
with knowing fingers

i know people get bored
i know its easy to
forget
to take for granted
but i love you more than yesterday
ships and starlight and
fancy cocktails
tie me up to fences
starve me
cause cuts cause time
just slide in bed next to me whenever you can
forgive imperfections
its the world
were just people

thank god

fly up day

its so much easier to write about things you dont feel close to. like i could make fifty poems in ten minutes while riding the 9, while filing through craigslist, while reading and the page jumbles and the words jumble and youve created a story in your brain, beginning, middle and always, the end. the end usually comes first. why do we write the end before the middle, after the beginning, why can we never let anything unfold, why must we always assume that we know, ultimately how the story will close, skipping the meat, the sandwich of the story. its easier, to close your eyes and point, to spin the globe on your bookshelf and point, to a continent, a far off island in the middle of a body of water than make actual plans. why is that? why are we incapable of letting that middle of the story fill in, become ripe and full and grow, with age, allow the ending to end, when, if, it does. we are impatient and untrusting of ourselves, of other people. people have made it difficult to trust and so we save ourselves by saving our stories. by writing ourselves out of situations we cant see clearly through, so that those last pages arent left up to fate, they are in our careful, sorrowful and limited hands. because fate fucks up and endings arent always happy, unless you write them yourself.
i cant write about any of this. i cant put it down and i cant say it out loud so its just swimming around in my head, fish bobbles and clear jellyfish murking up the tides that used to come easily, in and out. i cant breathe under all of this and im stuffy static walking through the days. im trying, im trying, but i dont know how to write this one down. i dont know how to make all these feelings come out on the page and resolve themselves, because they are too big, they are too heavy and im so used to carrying such weight. im in it right now.
my preschoolers graduate tonight and their families watch, their large and diverse families, each with two cameras in each hand, their little babies flying up to first grade and in one photo im sure, at least, tears were caught in kids hair as i hugged them, as they grabbed onto my legs and smiled up at me. i couldnt help it. i wanted to feel what that felt like but i was too far away from it. like, i wanted to be them, to be that young, i wanted that day again, to remember what it was like to be so small and hopeful, to have it all streching out in front of you instead of bleak, dry, desert. and i wanted to be the parents, because as much as i love these children (and i LOVE them) they are not mine and with their parents there they arent looking for me in the crowd to give that approving nod and one finger wave, so i just fade back into the cubbies and clutter and cupcakes lining the walls.

philosophers club

my book will be
touring in mexico
and youre with someone else right now
blue eyed and mannered

im not worried about getting in
over my head
i don't know about reverse psychology
but i know about you, and
the smell of your neck

its a sunday house hunt
home hunt
thanks for the directions

don't give up
with the wind like that
church on the hill

and get all sexy black midnight
on me

interference

your heart is (open crown)
in your hood
beautiful green
flashing since july
go, go, go
sorry i upset you
lets spell our names funny ways
silent p's and long a's

your face is stoney hardware
ive hired a security guard
to live
somewhere very deep down
in my gut
so i can
wear that salmon dress
like a second chance

turning hits into misses
with that smile & those eyes
were always ending in
elevators
politely feeling each other
up

you mailed a good
time
to the usual
suspects
and it came back unopened, fragile

ill load flowers
around your bed
and look at you critically
ive come to love folding
your underwear on sundays
youll never have to
walk alone
(Lets walk together)
unless you want to

cutting corners

shortcut seeker, I'm still lucky gold -





lets watch butterflys on sunday
i'll be your peach-shirt girl
with
nice (burberry) gloves
buttons and
banjos
pho with friends
WHY can't you give an inch
say goodbye to yesterday


my dogs are tired
your tongue is
yellow sweater in convenience
all I want is to take you to
church
palm sunday or
midnight mass



theres nothing like
riding across the GG Bridge with you
at 5pm
when weve been sweating for days
and finally the city air hits us and were
cool again, calm again, home
again
like black horses in buena vista park
you are unexpected and magical
a secret, lets whisper it, a
secret

beauty bar-f

one more day passes
and

you are beautiful
too pretty for me
a

van gogh starry night tattoo
half red sea, half jewels
i know i said i'm through

you give me
bragging rights
under water, underworld
somewhere in the mission, its
witten on a stone
girls in this town effing blow

but
lab girl, blonde girl,
im your girl
and

we're beautiful, remember that

tonight

You could be my silver springs
Blue green colors flashin
I would be your only dream
Your shining autumn, ocean crashing
And did you say she was pretty
And did you say that she loves you
Baby, I dont wanna know

Ill begin not to love you
Turn around, see me runnin
Ill say I loved you years ago
Tell myself you never loved me, no
And did you say she was pretty
And did you say that she loves you
Baby, I dont wanna know
Oh, no
And can you tell me was it worth it
Really, I dont wanna know

Time casts a spell on you, but you wont forget me
I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me

Instrument solo

Time casts a spell on you, but you wont forget me
I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me
Ill follow you down til the sound of my voice will haunt you (on 3rd time
Stevie oversings, was I such a fool?
Youll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you
(3x)

You could be my silver springs
My blue green colors flashin

did you say it?

it'll always be the same
little star

waving goodbye in the morning
riding off on
illicit bikes
sea green beds
and flowering fruit

those Eyes -
cant SLEEP either
this house of cards
is dog
whisperer
silent

from this distance
i just don't get the east coast
but i know about you, california
lets watch home videos
random ,awkward
know each other before we knew each other

youre the review before the test
the only class anyone goes to
the best part of the
chapter
an outline, really
of everything i need

lets fill in the bullets
and details
with sharpened lead

an error doesn't become a mistake
until you refuse to correct it
so i suppose losing you
was all right
because i red pen starred
you back into my life

tell me
you smug slug
you talk a little too loudly and distinctly
and
never take your
"sorries" with "thank yous"

tell me, did you say it?

fuck sade, she ruined everything

mutual contrition
red wine, pinky swears,
sins of omission

breaking and entering

youre leaving
oval around
and sideways smiles

first day at work
you arent scared of birds

but
BROWN LEATHER
like sands through the hourglass


locked eyes on the 2/3 to brooklyn
and were finally, (under the east river)

simple

gold spaghetti

I give
the vines
time to breathe, at last


like a middle aged woman walking


diaphanous

my father promises
nighttime lullabies for those who fight for better


saw you
looking
quarters in front of safeway

drunk singers
tall dreams and voices
big lantern tonight
kissing practice
horoscope test

evening
merry go round


buy yourself flowers at whole foods
smartass amateur


walk yourself to
rinconada park
light your own night light
and
keep in touch

you can turn on the sink in the bathtub

i was on a rampage today but im on one even more as i get ready to wash my hair for the second time today.

if you know me, you know that washing my hair once or twice a week is like, really good. to pull out the baby snarls like big kid tangles all cotton candy ouch factor give me a painkiller and a pair of scissors.

i hate hate hate having to wash my hair.
its flat.
i dont look like myself in the mirror.

i have a weird shaped face with flat hair. im holding this baby for ransom until this is over.

and every single one of you give me 20 bucks.

flashes and lies

clearly I hurt but that doesn't (change)
mean we cant lie
between crimson and clover


why can't everyone be
long haired lions
lurking in darkness



Just so you're crystal clear
you were the
working genius


disappear here, bernal heights
hello will do, make
lonely acoustics

kiss me above the world,
make it all move
thinkers think and your
hands link leash and mine in one swoop

happy hour is
pink wolf boy
It's nice to hear you say hello..
youre the best place to be single

forever stamps at the post office
are laughable
what is forever?

all the sudden you frequent my spots
riding your bike, crossing
fingers, pretzel bangs,
knockouts and cute smiles

rants and raves

i forgot how much i like cereal, like, just cheerios. im going to buy a huge box from trader joes and just eat cereal all weekend long from those white bowls you have in the cabinet. they are perfect cereal bowls and it will taste just right.
if i see another apartment with carpet im going to freak out. who puts carpet in apartments anymore. you are ruining the integrity of the wood and my feet and the lives of people who dont want to buy vacuums. we just want to buy mops.
i also hate politics, like office politics, and obsessing about them and gossip. i hate gossip. i love gg but not kitchen old lady gossip. chismosa. its annoying. shut up.
i love home made cards and all the kids make their own envelopes out of construction paper and staples, plus long strands of tape and i wonder if tape is a renewable resource. because we use a lot of it. postage, however, is going up 2 cents. thats annoying. i hate the post office (dawson) but ima go buy like four hundred of those forever stamps and use that shit, for like, ever. cause somethings are timeless like that.
like cheerios.

booty music

all the kids wear fake tattoos, spread splotchy like her artwork all down their arms and bellies and sometimes a terradactyl finds its way to a smooth cheek, a rounded batman flies solo over the bridge of a nose and capes fly, hair flies and time is ticking slowly and i shouldnt be watching the clock but i am. im making myself sick and pinching my sides, buttoning and unbuttoning pants, coats, armor and lacing up my lips with glossy thread. stars of david in tiny hands, needle point, what type of stitch would you like. after lunch we place our hands and forearms under cool water, blood arrives through dust, knees scraped and elbows, butterfly bandaged, this is all so symbolic. we are all symbols of something else and my nail polish chips and the sun glares and i left my shades at your house, at your house, amidst (y)our things.
tiny torture chambers are my classroom and my brain, like lighting things on fire to watch them burn, i once lit a whole bundle of letters on fire in the kitchen sink at my parents and the pipes burst, black charred paper and words, my dad was furious and i drove the streets of that city, dark and dark and warm and sad, they are just words, people say, but they arent just words, they are everything. what would i be to you without them?
ive stopped learning. and so im sending myself back to school. i have become stagnant so i buy old books at the goodwill and collect pieces of paper on the walk home from the mission to mod podge in there, a story over a story, like it means something.
lets just drink juice on the deck and summon summer. im ready for her, for tanned legs and sticky necks, modest music and kisses full of time instead of tears. booty music over the bay bridge and introducing you to things i knew two years ago. lets make bracelets, glaze them, break ebony and string flowers around our wrists, take trains and unbuckle our shoes. she was too wound up for you, ill let my hair down and get muddy, laugh too loud and make people uncomfortable with my comfortableness. im all braided up for you and ready for you to say when.

taco tuesday

last night were taking shots, perched above the crowd, and have i lost it? have i lost it? its a game were always playing and i pick my pieces and shoot them looks across bars and tell people i'll be right back, slip dip diving into the night, running, giggling, always looking behind me.
i remember the afternoon jo rode d's bike and i couldnt help looking back behind me to make sure she was there, not drifting off into the wild traffic, the wild afternoon. when did my sleepy ocean friend start wearing heels that give her blisters, my sand toed blonde best friend is sitting in dark bars with me and i take her to the shittiest neighborhood, where the italian restaurants flow into the street, all white tablecloths and white teeth and white, white, white. give me a job, hire me and i promise i wont talk shit, the streets are quiet except for pools of boys outside bars, girls wearing backwards baseball hats and i always feel more nervous here, more out of place, rubbing elbows with crisp suits and stiff make up smiles, my hands get clammy and im ten years old and cant get any words out, but tequila makes me brave and soon im swiping lip gloss on and prowling, a cat, a 23 year old cat, sleek, and slick. i dont know how my best friend has found herself in this city overnight, a city of vultures, waiting to descend, of deep dark nights and twisty mornings, of tired eyes and ragged edges, how did my quiet mountain friend find herself sleeping to traffic and rush, city rush, its moving and moving and fighting , my friend got into a fight last night and broke someones arm, you know, the friend who kissed you, and fleeing.
were all running. i want to settle down. i want to keep her safe. keep us safe.
i dont want to worry about my friends and the people i love so much. i want to send them off into their day and quit worrying. i want josie to stop worrying about her father who wont call her back, just call her back, we need to stop worrying. it gives us wrinkles and pits in our stomach. makes us drink shadows and sleep with windows shut for the quiet. windows as metaphors for boys and our friends in borrowed sweats watching greys. but please. please. just for a minute. just for a minute, be quiet, stop looking right through me, like you know me, only my boy looks at me like that. everyone feels entitled to a piece of something around here, i just want josie to be safe, i want all these people with their grabby hands to back the fuck off. give me some space. a little space to keep safe.

lets write stories about people well never know and dream about dresses well never own

lets be friends and blossom like
thieves
youre (breaking up)
another unwasted saturday
godspeed out there, this
den full of foxes
you have no runaway moves,
blonde girl,
youre thirteen and lucky
a
dreamboat
with derailed chain
abre los ojos
double take polk street
lets just say we
lived in berkeley in the 90's
deadheads, sisters named love wing & crystal rose
beautiful
romanian hunters hold hands
coffee table with boring picture books
the soup in oakland chinatown, lumpy and grey
when youre gone
anonymous sex blindfolds chills down my spine
"This makes us friends"
red shoes
and
pregnant
ashby flea market
willow branches tucked in packs, brilliant design
there is no one better
more plesant
im too sensitive for this double edge sword
making star tattoos on face
you do like
voodoo, dont you?

before I let you go
befuddled
shoreline
like
red cross
lets have an egg hunt, whisper your sweet voice
i'll blow you kisses
and be just another girl in the panhandle, making
something out of nothing
with tired hands

spring sprung whitewash mish mosh

eskape is washed from brick walls on oak street, i pull up and park outside the night we danced in white paint, black boot marks and tacate teardrop innocence. a man is washing your writing from walls, a thick hat and brow dancing lightly with sweat, its hot lately, we wear short sleeves and show sleeves and tuck our toes in the sand and lick upper lips, laugh lighter, move slower along bodies and arms, sticky, sun warmed. i picture you in shade, under trees, hammocked by sunlight, listless with afternoon, with side by side glow, i picture you in this place that rotates, how many days does it take the earth to move around the sun, a place with years and time, a place, yellowed, old cornered photographs, i hold you closely under glass and look at you when you are not near me, kiss your face at bedtime, write you love letters, cross t's and dot the i's in your name with hearts in notebooks during meetings. it is here, this soft spoken whisper place, that makes dreary, deep night seem safe and warm. im not afraid of you anymore. im not afraid of anything anymore except being away from you for too long, and after this long, you are never that far away.
mary magdalene in the mission makes change noise in pockets, dollar stores and fruit flies, postage stamps stuck to heels and im in a rush. im in a hurry, slow down, slow down, get a pen, write this down. new carpet underfoot and different sounds, putting head to pillow, wake up achy, i dont sleep, i never ever sleep, wide windows flung open and shower leak. tread lightly, hurry before the paint dries, tuck me in, lock me in, i'll put your art up in my room and make this a home again, grass nests in trees, i tell them, build higher, go higher, make it safe enough to sleep in, twine and clover, dirt and sour grass, whatever it takes to protect what you love.

life skills

what do you say when someone tells you "you were born to do this" besides question every single reason for your existence? is this what youve been working for?

im listening to band of horses, cleaning my new place in my underwear, the windows are open, i got bones in my wallet and i just mixed an antioxidant drink, my best friend is moving to san francisco and im going to an 80's spring break party tonight. life is fucking grand. im feeling sharp and swift and serious.

raffle winner

outside my new bedroom windows are old wooden latice and green ivy browned wall paper. it makes me feel like calistoga, dry, dusty wood windowsills and greenery. and i love it.
b says, things are looking up. im excited for both of us.
i dont know what he means but theres an undercurrent and its almost summer and tomorrow is friday and all my things are in boxes and bags around me and life feels full.

how we recover what is lost

lost, noe valley
found black backpack & duffel bag
sunset
national geographic magazine

looking for good samaritan
photo attached
stolen party
lost my heart...actually, it was kinda stolen

starck glasses
engagement ring
one gold earring
find people
FREE!
found Keys
lost purse in taxi
due to burglary
found on bus & given to driver
a white chihuahua with black shirt found....kind of
lost coin purse/wallet
silver with glass beads
identify it and it's yours -
have you found it?
theres a reward

lost ring - gold with opals and an emerald
lost my orthodontic retainer
ocean beach parking lot
my passport
found in speedway meadows
identify it and it's yours -

free

i have to make a home in you
spiny nests, comfortable with wings
spread
yes -
i have no legs to stand on right now
were rich on a sunday
hey you,
i approach

my home is burned ashes, black stakes
someone tell me that were like two ships in the night
happy birthday from portland, oregon
are you still thinking of me while you're over there?

i still think about you
at gas stations in sonoma
when toys are all we can do
outside academy of sciences
your rendition of perfect day made my day so I gave you a dollar

meet me HERE
some future day well be nice to each other
play songs we like to hear
come out tonight
well be HERE
but I am always yours

you are so pretty.
busy and counting -
and counting



girl with purple scarf 8pm 9pm gone


I think after everything -
your green eyes are blue
two friends hitchhiking on east cliff to ocean
meeting on friday
adult world on el camino real
SFO long term parking
ice cream at whole foods
cafe trieste boy
russian hotties at borders
cute couple with very cute puppy
so far no news

im ambidextrous

every morning, golden gate park, i'll teach you
how to keep LIARS away -
I was not DELUSIONAL about you smiling - (I did not even LOOK AT YOU)


mendocino
you on the radio
windy ocean hillside
cup your hands, hold still
fasten your belt to that bus
tuck me in that space between shoulder blades
i dont need much
after dark, epic, balcony, cigarette
goodnight

ramble gamble

i guess last night on the bus ride home listening to gaga and eating pizza i stole from hydeout i got hella passionate and wrote myself some notes in my phone. this is what that looks like:

im your biggest fan, i'll follow you until you love me

bubble wrap a dinosaur and send it to yourself in argentina for your next birthday so that even if you dont live there someone will get a gift in the middle of july

controlled burns is what they call them, but theres nothing contained about wildfire

exposed brick is hot

el guincho-alegranza!

irish mark whos "really" puerto rican

stevie as a girls name

why are we waiting for the thing we want the most? why are we not doing exactly everything that we want? why do we hold bakc, make timelines, create far off goals, extend deadlines...so that when that day actually comes we are too tired, too heartless, too forgetful, too stuck. i dont want that for us, we can move just as fast, be just as quick, as agile as life. we have it now...this desire, this want, we have everything we want now...

books to look up tomorrow: kevin henkes "kittens first full moon", "the prophet", read "eat pray love" even though its on oprahs book list and like ten people on the bus probably have it in their bags. right. NOW.

hot pink and red can be pulled off by very few people. remember this if you ever get pink eye.



apparently there was a LOT on my mind last night, preach on sister, preach on....

dry spell

train conversations are the worst. an awkward, pale handshake across laps, bags crammed under feet and half shouting your name, nice to meet you, over iphones and ear buds, rain slicker backs turned and daisy ringed hair bands. its eager eyes on the 71, sitting on a fire escape balcony with your michigan roommate turned best friend, smoking pot instead of going to your low paying job, singing songs that remind you of 6th grade, getting lost in berkeley, swearing to your mother on the phone because youre late. its bright clothes and shiny bangles, are these free treasures, the skinny street boy asks me, and my life is spread across concrete, rich, yet defeated. lonely against stark shark white sky. if he is the moon, then i am eclipsed, she says, a growl, a dark whisper, like black paint into sharp pointed night. i feel this way the last month i am alive, the last month before i have no idea what i am anymore. a gypsy vagabond, floats too close to the surface, bubbling over and babbling about. close wound, seal tight, lift gently, shake well, close to cover. rinse. repeat.

last glance

a note
three years in pockets
deep with loose change
ink so faded
thin, worn, your hands rubbed velvet
moleskin
tired, time
pulled down petticoats
finally, finally
evening has come
your tie
is too tight
our faced bunched
browned
like old grapes
harvest
crush, you say

digestion

wednesday in san francisco. bayview is just children over airplane hum and rush of freeway like water. freight trucks crashing across uneven on ramps and neon kids with wild hair fly by holding buckets of oatmeal, pins and needles and fish. the sun killing off any sad residue, wiping the table clean with windex and paper towels, yesterday grey and then the sky opens up with hail like a giant mouth and b is saying "i just dont understand" on the phone from oakland, having argentina dreams, delirious on making something happen, getting a plan, a plane, outta here and we both just laugh and say "i got nothing" despite these three whole weeks away. wednesday is weird like that, mid week, mid feelings and everyones calling on the phone, waiting for the weekend and stretching out their "im fines" lazy long like a cat.

its anything now, a song mostly, a word, an N train, rush of steamroller by my window at night, where i have restless dreams and wild thoughts and tired tremors, a third cup of coffee when your hand holding your cigarette is shaking, a face, the back of someones head, and its true, your aunt was right, you dont have to look very hard. you are everywhere.

i cant say your name without blushing, without uneasy stomach and nervous hands. i think about you in all of my writing and every sentence turns to you. it has been such an incredibly long week. i want to say i miss my friends, i miss you, but these words are even a fraction of how i feel. those words dont make sense anymore. saying i miss you is missing b, missing his smell while he is gone, but one i can still bring up, can still create, can still find in my sheets where i know he will return. missing him makes me ache, makes me sad and lonely and my heart hurt but it is a happy missing, it is the missing of something that fits, something that will hopefully return to its place again and lock in and all that missing will be worth something when he smoothes back my hair and calls me little lady right before sleep. there is no comparison. missing you, its like missing your youth, missing the way your mother used to be able to fix things, missing summer, that last summer before college, before moving away from home, missing the first drunk, the way nothing will compare to the first time he touched you, missing something that is lost, love that left you, love that you believed in and is now gone. the missing of something that will not, ultimately, ever return. the missing is easy, but what do you do with all that hurt?

graffiti walls fly by on the mint building, im on some bus, bringing me downtown to my boy, where all the buildings are grey and faces, red, wind chapped and unsmiling. i cant get there fast enough and all i want to do is hold him and say im so happy to see you because it will be true. and im into telling the truth right now. i get to the bar before him and reapply chapstick three times, come back from the bathroom and he is sitting there, making a face at me all the way from the back of the room. i sit down and he just says, you look so happy, and its funny how differently we see things, how much better i am at being myself than i thought, that what i had felt on the train over, the replaying of one song, the desperation, the sadness, the fear of not making great things, that all of that has been washed away on the walk to lukas, the trip to the bathroom, the staring at myself in the mirror, the placing of a smile on and seeing his face. seeing him waiting for me, that moments can change so quickly, that life moves so quickly.