start with the building block of all narrative
the mommy blog a central character in her new story
the reverse-chronology scroll dives deeper into prophecy
she finds the mommy blog about echoes her own, perfectly
the mommy blogs find each other, recommend each other
matchmake–
their feedback loops leak into their authors,
who fall in love, obviously
tap on their laptops in matching slouch chairs at the local play cafe
running their fingers up and down their touchpads
push notifications
*
**
*
the grand conjunction
a graphic four-pointed throwing star floating just above the horizon
was it spinning slowly or was i?
the videographic of the solar system’s trajectory around the milky way, so many orbital coils
aircondition by oliver laric
sometimes the clouds cover the sunrise and sometimes the light catches their edges just so
*
coordinating conjunctions, fanboys is the acronym
for and nor but or yet so
holding hands with my microobsessions
diaeresis in every direction, multiocular o
*
sensational spelling
following my whims seriously, eagerly
looping with them thru the ‘verse
a making-of video, with a section of project runway edited out by the copyholders
i read a passage chosen by chance from each custom copy of jubilee zinevella, outside against the wall of my daughter’s playhouse during golden hour in summer 2020
so tasty
soup for my family
aged newspaper
rubbed by the air
psychic Acorn House bridging worlds
soft rose mushrooms empurpling next to feathers from a hawk fight
nature walk in the backyard
weeping pussywillow
memory tags, silky&shaggy,
the pair of brown cows no longer in the field on the hill across the creek
Mary Oliver everywhere.
Diane DiPrima everywhere,
Audre Lorde in the bestest places;
poetry everywhere,
in the back yard, in the front room
referentiality looping everywhere
ribboning like ribbon diagrams.
my life story is an allegory for your life story,
she said into the camera, uploaded it to youtube,
he told her he liked it a few years later
in the library, always in the library
so many pages young and aged
start writing, the prompt said, so she did
POEM 1
she smiled at me
as I rounded
his bed
I knew
but
I still didn’t know
or
I didn’t
want
to
knowing
would make it
REAL
and real was the worst thing I could think of
real
would
put me
into
a new
“category”
one of delicacy and kid gloves
of tuts and too bads
a category
I thought I’d spent my
whole life
preparing for.
a category I was
ready for.
I wasn’t ready.
how could i be
heat rises
a rising tide hits me square in the jaw.
I can’t compete with the allure of her
magnetism.
she goes around like a waltz,
an ease pervading the air about her
like it’s coming off her skin,
like she’s doused in a perfume of
power.
her presence towers over me, pushing me to my
meekness,
huddling in a corner even though I’m standing in the middle of the room.
my face wrinkles with giddiness and
insecurity.
I look away.
I want to kiss her and slap her and
hide her
from everyone else and never look at her again.
the blood in my veins breaks into my brain
creating the sweat that will ultimately become my need to
leave.
because I can’t compete with a woman who smells like that.
and if I can’t win, I’ll
lose her.
ultradian-rapid-cycling-bipolar2-mixed-features
i shift inside me.
day shift,
night shift,
lunch shift.
the three of us wrestle,
tussle,
then come to blows.
every one of us knows
how to fuck with the
Other.
just another day in the life
of
mixed bicycles
colliding
in opposites
refracting
or
retracting
polar
icecaps
stating the
obvious
then
flying through
blood red
clouds filled
with rain
the damage comes from
within
without
my
knowledge
permission
acceptance
guidance
love
hate
neutrals seldom come from
a brain
on fire
barbed wire in
my eyes
constant
hyperdrive
reprise
of a
death knell
in hell
the truth won’t make them come
because
from
any other vantage
we’re fucked.
an unattractive offering no matter how silver the platter.
overidentified and undernourished.
25 years undiagnosed and
without flourish.
the red brain
undermining
the yellow brain
undermining
the blue brain.
cyclical gaslighting.
rinse, repeat.
we have a volcanic experience,
no,
existence.
roiling, molten lava
spewed into ashes
then hardened into stone.
rinse, repeat.
the red one bursts in
punching,
screaming,
kicking for
Control,
throwing the papers
in the air,
all devil may care,
it’s about me!
i don’t care!
it’s not fair!
what a dick.
the yellow one is constantly
jarred, disoriented,
too consumed with righting the ship
to keep their grip.
unable to see the pattern
or the cliff
or even mitigate the impact.
what a chump.
the blue one longs for defeat .
any reason to retreat .
sweet release in thick dark sleep .
what a coward.
rinse, repeat.
then the math changes
and the variables trade places,
a mix tape featuring
chaos on the B-side.
an interesting biopic?
only if you don’t have to live it.
there, there, take your meds & do your yoga & write your gratitude’s & you’ll be fine & if you’re not it’s
Your Fault.
it must be.
they don’t know that the
little blue pill
does but a little.
it can’t even touch two of us.
but I’ll swallow one of you whole.
*
**
*
when the rainbow is a window and vice-versa
colorways, dangerous, gorgeous
dangerous window rain, my eyes caught by the sunset caught in the drops
*
another early night i saw the sex lights blue on the horizon’s edge but the wreck it was invisible
the line of red brake lights that snaked the gorge went on forever
and you both slept in the lullaby car
*
glimpses, remembrance, touch-traces
oh how we waited!
we waited together forever, just friendly thumbs circling one another
drawn into the wrong suburban to cross paths with the once-lost local dreamer, his enthusiasm
as he showed me the scar from his broken arm
*
the sweetness of random friendships,
affinities, fan me, fam
(a deleted reference to fanning out your memories like a hand of cards)
deep fam at disco christmas says so much to me
feel your friendship feelings, people person
run your mind’s fingers over those u love
screen test
pro test
edging up against the more fake and merci-less
more mercy, less fake
real pain for my sham friends and champagne for my real friends again
rebellious girlness is for everybody
bleached reefs versus doomer juggalos, me lazy yearning for new futures, listless
real life, like that lake, exists
simultaneous friends in bar backyards, modern love
sitting in luxurious circles
fairy lights in the branches above
2018’s heavy clouds i mean mistakes like
“do you like him?” squinted at me and
i lied yes to both of us with a dissociative bile-heat body-high (why?)
rushing up from one of my center lines, esophagus
i lied and in paralyzed lying
i failed my friend!
in every end’s beginning is there some other beginning’s end?
new moon longing low mood, that is to say,
is your 2020 a y2k remake with the saturation turned up way too high too?
the suspension bridge wiggling with compound moire?
all my old crutches way too short, limp home mode
nightmares where i’m dragging on the ground froze mode , molasses mode
or cast up into the sky, unable to hold on,
both a wake-up call, flinching away from my dreams
slim liminal window, something about opportunity
dreams live in a little ribbon looping with wavelength and frequency
timing is everything and
location, location, location
