Viewing entries in
memory & time

spray and pray

tickets are sought. some are bought. and there are times even these

moments thoughtfully forheld are missed.

there are seats empty waiting for prostration.

there are bodies prostate far before their time.

there are relationships shattered,

reservation plaques on linens gathering dust.

there are suites heavy with bouquets,

abandonment or too late indecision forking paths.

there are openings emptier,

canapés clustering, questions dead before they’re asked.

there are sunsets never climbed for,

a variant first to claim tripod in place;

there are mechanical snaps taken in their stead,

thought comes after, spray and pray.

a waste, a waste, such wasted fate

but judgment is not reserved for the ticketed.

at least while you’re above ground,

there will always be the next love and more art.

a park

a spot subtropical:

first breezed in unwanted

cutting humidity with knife knees

searching while staying

where it’s been paved

a sunday gazebo filled

with unknowns

invitations and exchanges

uncomfortably gazing past—

there must be more like yourself

an old vietnamese blanket

added hopefully

to shape of foreign wrinkled sheets;

placing self then self-consciously

alone among a tribe

beneath since that time

pinned palm trees

your cooking & your cutlery,

a pile of books, homebrewed coffee,

strong speaker, same crimson and mustard woven blanket underneath

at peace

as one without your pack;

a few years and finally

memories overturn in day haze

gutteral gratitude, belly down on

yellow leaf peppered grass


brought before the sun shafts,
senses lit

squinting at certainties
covered in unanswerable questions

asking in the throat,
if soreness when swallowing

should disappear
if refused such constriction?

pondering beneath lids,
if vision when natural

could heighten in mind’s eye
as if on inner journey?

contesting wrists,
if sensations when wrought up

could be alleviated
if stillness once more was common?

wondering of lips,
if sought numb and cold

could ever be relearnt
if those ghost kisses were buried?

challenging the tongue,
if these textures of morning

would slim in size
if night’s palpation is omitted?

will daylight,
shredding and sharpening—

while we try blinder, stiller, duller
but shrewder—

ever escort us home
as whole again,

or are we condemned
to be outwardly shone and sore?

how to struggle

in order to completely     survive the day    

untraumatized, erect    associated, whole  

regulated, adjusted      nervous systems intact    

senses processed    

personalized, not taking personal    

mobilized, self-aware

memories always accessible waiting just where they belong

dreams only peppered in unpleasant ‘nightmare’ not in the vernacular

engaged through and throughout but not used up, no never

remember, you may nap

apply unaffordable essentials

to your life, liberally

massage deeply with ring fingers

only, so as to merely surface pat

but assuredly affect change

—this skill may take time

patient communication

forgiveness work in the same safe space

on the cleanest floor

mindful mindful, mind your breath

embrace unwanted change

but remember to change nothing

when mercury

appears to be behaving backwards

stomach in up, shift in your seat

erudite posture, core considerations lovingly

carefully, unrefusingly

recognize your thoughts, acknowledging what comes next

let things go in layers

but don’t let them fall away for sure;

the weather changes frequently, &

who here still believes in time?

unfolding knowingly

gentle, gentle breathing past it

chanting, humming, shuddering’s fine too

respectfully recognize and know your feelings

a soft embodiment of struggle

cotton in your ears a sacral melt before you rest

imagine an egg beneath your neck let incense mingle with your hips

let clog bits uncongeal harshest exhale now out the mouth

soft sight beneath heavy lashes fluttering toward a roll over on your right

up you go



& off to bed,

you’ve reached


after manners of the savages, formosa 1928

after manners of the savages, formosa 1928

the whites of your feathers and the roundness of your symmetries

the skyblue adornments as backdrop and accessory,

the thatched dwelling harmonious, linear, with purer purpose


the fresh pink of your crown and the bands at your knees, 

the cheekbones of sepia and the ligaments strong,

the black wraps on your bodies more essence than black sand beneath


the beads of color indicative, long, the clasp to hold longer,

the stripes with intent, stitched for time and its passages,

the feet adapted, the shoulders back, the stares the proudest of all


if these are the manners stamped as savage in sand a century before, how do our

meticulous sound systems,

bamboo attempts at fortitude,

synthetic searches for safety,

frond waving sinews of exhaustion,

feminist proclivities,

widening pupillary ethereality, and

dulled with dirt ersatz adornments

on the gods' manicured hills

have room for the way we choose to bend?