china town.

its how it has always been
the women on the edge of the alley
peering thru blind eyes
the language is sharp and to the point
the smells remain the same
dried fish
plum sauce
frying rice in a thickening of oil
the children are dancing on the street in dirty feet
there is no room for cars
but they come anyways
equipped with horns and heavy exhaust
mostly yellow
carrying people from upper east side
commuters heading south
its how it has always been
although changed
a pot bellied man carrying a wheelbarrow
to lighten a load his shoulders are to old and weary to take weight to
a girl thin skinned and hazel eyed watches me watch her
then looks down towards wobbly knees
i don’t know why ive come here today
i walked out the door of my apartment without direction or cause
purposeful with my misunderstandings of this city
i walk thru realms of others indulgences
i want to taste the thickening of the dried pigs ear
but do not
the rules i concern myself with
they are how they’ve always have been
i do not buy used underwear
i do not wear the color pink
i do not have sex without love
i do not tempt myself with drying pigs ears
they are for the dogs
where do these places of do not carry thru
from a grandmother who has never indulged in the pleasures of sex before marriage
a lover with fear lingering in the eyes
my second grade teacher who told me God was looking at me from above
watching me
retracing me
memorizing me
my lines
of thoughts and worldly imperatives
its how its always been
and its how it will always be they say
but i will disagree this time
i will release a bitten tongue
i will pull anothers underwear underneath my dress
up against my fleshy nakedness
i will wear fuchsia
hot pink
pale pink
blush pink
peachy pink
pink pink
all backwards and inside out
i will take you up five flights of stairs and lay you long on my orange bed
and fuck you
deep into me
i will taste those drying ears
suckle them like i would suckle you
and then throw you to the dogs
because this is not of me
because this is not how its always been
because something has to change
change from within
we hold on to patterns and dates and times and schedules and political reasoning
and why we love
what we love
and who we love
and where we love
and what is love?
without question
we live our days
we habit our ways
i don’t know why i have come here today
the hot humidness sticking to me
the air conditioners leak from above giving me one taste of what coolness feels like to the skin
i would have not let it touch me with gratitude coming from where i came from
but here
i will take all the un pleasurable with pleasure

a riveting mind.

maybe the world takes us where we dont want to go sometimes
and maybe the stories in our heads will always be just stories
when a day is at its folding
and all that adds up has nowhere to follow
there is this one moment where our emotions remain slighted
between words and sounds
to the softness in the air of “good-bye”
the split of your breath ending
and mine just beginning
as the sun folds down against the sky in goodnight
there is a moment of chance hardly ever taken
time takes its course thru the bend of this river
past the cattails of misconceptions
to the beauty of a woman
revealed in the softness of her eyes
take me back to the beat
before there was a man at my side
before the womb held my body
delicately
deliberately
we all have sailors of a past life
bringing us goods that are not fulfilled by the soils of our own understandings
a mistress longs for a lover
but has no knowledge of its depth
we all long for something we have never tasted
but by our minds riveting ways
there is a vision distilled into an echoing inclination
of a reality known to my own kind
where dreamscapes never make the scene
in a race of human retribution
crazy and obscene
like the language of my tongue
heavy and indulged
my world revolves around the depth of my pen
dark ink
darker now to BLACK
where the pins of my eyes float in a haze of smoky blue
looking into a world out of confinement
and gratitude
the coastline hits the surface of an ever ending misunderstanding
taking me into my own wanting
of things that i am not of
i walk on edge in the strength of your voice
i talk of men and speak of all things i am not about
ive betrayed my truth
taken shame into my voice
the lines run thin up here
i am sick of lines and shapes
parallels to live by
they say im getting big
in what way do they mean
do i offend them with my hip size
with the roundness of my breasts
with the love my lovers caress
im charged with form
you underestimate my moves
i walk on my stride
on the bridges that un-gap the time
ive been wandering through theses streets of ancient names
dating back before the birth of this body
before my soul could touch with cold hands and bare feet
before streets turned gray and stars faded with the lights of these corners
ive been talking about getting out of this rut for to long to keep counting
my father is an artist
a musician at heart
my grandfather and grandmother were singers
before they knew the rocky roads they have crossed over
my mother is a lover
a woman of virtue and truth
of innocence and light
my german roots have left me off somewhere between two worlds
and I am debating between the colors of grass on either side
the sun holds a new twist in her rays
im twenty four and counting still
beyond my fingers and toes
past old boyfriends and rebellious thoughts
i catch myself somewhat grown
retracing the outline of my nipples
supple with a mind of there own
warm to the touch of august fever
and the heat of a heart gone mad
everyday i learn something new
everyday i let go of a heaviness weighted beyond me
taking me into the subtleties of being human
of being a woman born under the power of two
i don’t want to look past you to see my reflection on the other side
i pray to hold my head up to the heavens
where angels meet and reminisce about our lives

a naked woman.

a naked woman
i confine myself
his wife here
on the right
i am concerned
i lean outside again
suppose we got off that train
which is also a way of saying
a life gets built out of its resemblance to something else
i would've nailed the heart to heart
in an endless play of vowels and dissolution
nothing to add to this love
an excess taken back
if you cannot talk naked
there is nothing to say about it
the expectation of an entrance is simple
in these holes of my memory
space of indecision
you could see in the hallways the curling of smoke
see it running the risk of white
when i search the past for you
its just another april
almost morning
messy heart
just for the hell of it
oh manhattan
how we lay long on your orange bed
breathing beside me
stitched into my bones
a new way of appreciating has arrived
because by morning it will be gone
to chase the dream
get worn out
give up again
at that place where the land begins to taper
two or more lies are combined
breaking the air between wings beating
against an impossible choice
all that i am hangs by a thread tonight
i need you to remember to tell me
how i have learned to hear the spaces in between your voice
all i see are steps leading down into the water
a silhouette of this disappearing city
there are a thousand ways to escape a life
in the absence of sound and every word that you swallow
i need you remember to tell me
the shapes our bodies made as we slept
its only memory closing onto us
the same hope
the same wearing out
i need you to remember to tell me
its harder to kill harder still to love
you tempted me always to manifest my desire and finally it wore out
folds on your shirt lie like shadows
the body moves towards decay
i need you to remember to tell me
with those measuring eyes
i wasn't exactly forgiven
your tongue knows what it knows
no longer speaking
fatigue
regrets
we turn our backs and weary
weary we let down
the temptation to evacuate is stronger when no one is looking





soldier in the night.

baking immortality
between the thickness of clouds
and the fullness of a moon unexposed
the rain beats down softly against canvas
molded into steep siding woven thick in cord
steam rises high enough to reach air
and i take in one more breath
let my body reside and resonate with the idea of lapping ocean water
against seaweed
caressing deeper into my contours
ask me who i am
soldier in the night
against the beating of my heart and that fear of letting you in
i am not the woman you once knew
would you like to see again and then let me decide
if you are still the boy i knew
that soldier in the night
talking between smoke pierced lips
we all have to go to sleep sometime
we wake up to a new morning
and to the moon a little less full