Poem for a Springtime Nap

Waiting for you is like waiting for water to turn to wine.
I don't know if it is my own vain-glory or fear,
But I taste-test over and over, lacking the patience and trust in my eyes or heart to witness a change in composition.
I look daily for the miracle of you,
the alchemy I am sure must take place in me and the world before your appearance.
Because I am sure you will be golden like the sun,
which warms my face already.
It is a foreshadowing,
or rather,
a foreshine, that convinces me that you are yet to come.

When it is beautiful out is when I want you most,
and when I lie by myself for an afternoon naps with you caressing my face.
The most joyful moments are those which also remind me that I am alone,
and uncared for except for the Lord, and
a kindred spirit smiling,
somewhere at the same sun.

Gary Indiana is not the edge of the world, It turns out

"Gary Indiana is not the edge of the world, It turns out"

My burgeoning love affair with the ocean was unexpected.
As someone who didn't see salt water until 15,
except sea-salt water in her medicinal foot soak,
as a suburban Chicagoan whose impression of the beach
never saw anything other than a more dangerous swimming pool.
I am afraid of loving the ocean.
The salty, briny smell,
the sand more often wet and cold than warm and glamourous.
The romantic sound of the waves.

I am most afraid of raising my eyes and falling in love with the horizon,
so different than the factories of Gary, Indiana.
because the edge of the world, even in Brooklyn,
is so far from Chicago.

Potentially the first posting of these lyrics ever...

remarkably heartwrenching song that Dan and I figured out the lyrics to [while he talked with pops]

"Manatawny" by Manatawny Creek Ramblers

i live very simply
i know what i need
cigarettes and coffee
good soil and feed
down by the old spots
that's where ill be
just across from
the banks of the Manatawny


i farm corn & the soybeans
I tend to the hay
it goes well in september
I just might get paid
now this morning the sky
opened up with a roar
that creeping river's
outside my front door

I'm begging please...

...Manatawny back down
big river back down
from me these ragin' waters
don't look like no creek
Manatawny back down from me...



got a woman named jenny
she stands by my side
in spite of my temper
in spite of my pride
she works second shift
on the assembly line
says :
long as we got love we're doing just fine

had a home in the country
with snakes it was cursed
had us a baby
never made it past birth
and I promised some day I'll
paint you the town
today I'm just hoping
that river backs down
I'm begging please...


[lull]

my pills need refilling
my lungs are a mess the doc says,
"ticker needs to lay off the stress"
says "relax boy, take it easy
before you all spent"
well it just ain't an option
when you gotta pay the rent
now I love my country
this I stand behind
what I hates not affording
a doctor for my wife
and if you can hear me
way down in DC
get a piece of my mind
if this river spares me
I'm begging please...



thought we were in for a good year
the end of the drought
its hard not to worry
and I try not to doubt
I guess faith is trustin'
without rhyme or good reason
but Jesus, I'm asking
for once, a good season

down on my knees...

[sexy harmonica]

::the end::

Late Night Thank You Note

So I want to thank you, even though I am not quite sure if the "you" should be the Divine or the pianist.

You took something dismal and redeemed it into one of the most magical things i have witnessed in my entire life.

I had to force myself to go out tonight, and into the city at that. I hate Manhattan at night. Not because of crime or anything like that, but because it is "Manhattan at Night" It is an entity entirely different from myself, that lives on adrenaline, serotonin, and fruity-flavored vodka cocktails. I have very little common ground, and am prejudiced against it anyway from the start.


I like Brooklyn, I love Ditmas. I HATE "manhattan at night", the borough that never sleeps, and never thinks about who it sleeps with or what it says.

I left early, because i have things tomorrow. And I was tired of not wanting to play pool or have another PBR, which is all I can afford, but will not get me anymore buzzed and just make me fatter and tireder. Circumstances foundation enough to give my cross-town-blocks walk in the subfreezing weather without a hat (or bonnet) an air of doom and gloom. And by the time I got to the station, I was fighting myself on why I live in New York when I hate its face so much.



And thats when it happened, the occasion prompting this thank you note. Jolted out of my self-indulgnt why me-isms, full-bodied red-wine notes engulf me. Jumping back and forth from the platforms and hiding in the dark tunnel, but still pi-ah-no enough to be gentle and sweet and real, and still a shy enough sound to know that it is young and has learning to do. The sound from the box gathers information and wisdom as it bounces on the tiles and tracks, and I stop dead. Confronting how I should be allowed to see something so beautiful with such ugliness in my heart.
Suddenly glad that it is not noon. It wouldn't be nearly the same.
And glad that it is not summer. The labor of the player in the cold only adds weight and gravity to the task.
And glad that I am alone on a Saturday night. Not still stuck at a too slick bar taking the money I don't have, meeting the men I don't want.

Because, this? This is magical
and romantic,
and sublime,
and one of the most heart breaking things I have ever seen.

Thank you.

ps: I don't want to take your picture. You seemed like you didn't like me for that thought.

two, and third and coffee stains

Today's poem, and a rediscovered older one:


truly beautiful people
white woman
black man
fuzzy pilled scarf
long well kept dreads
little baby nested in between her breasts
and his almond croissant crumbs
a Parisian/latin/loungy song comes on
they hum, to baby, or each other, or the rest of the coffee shop
alternating parts
as if it was their well rehearsed dance
but if you really look
they are completely unaware they are making music
even less so of their synchronosity



All my clothes are black and coffee stain color,
because I live that way.
I don’t buy white, and
“This is why we can’t have nice things”

and I have a certain pride in that.

Sometimes I think I am scared of the possibility of marriage not because of the commitment or pressure, but because I know there is no way I would get through an entire day wearing white and not spill. Especially being a redwine drinker.

Winter Activities

For Grandma and the other dead:

It seems to me, that death is something sharp at first and then softens in time.

In a tombstone freshly chiseled, harsh and black characters;

and then when more time has passed after the final date, 

longer than the mortality lying within the dash,

when having proved a lasting power longer than its predecessor, 

death becomes the norm, the average state of being,

then the letters and numbers fade;

after countless harsh Wisconsin blizzards and rains.

And eventually, 

with writing and edges so soft and smooth that even the visitors that come to see you, 

who never really knew you, 

want to gently tip over your marker and use it as a pillow 

for their tired heads

and their heavy souls.

Then death is a comfortable pallet we all walk towards,

or slink, or waltz,

the wiser of us knowing that in its lasting power

is truth

and hospitality.

Election Update

So, I realize this hasn't been updated in very long, and unfortunately, it took a very judgmental comment by Mr. Richard (see down there?  where it shows I censored his comment?), but here is my take on the election process this year thus far.  

Both candidates fail to impress me.  No one will give a straight answer.  They have both lied about the other to try and get a leg up.   Both sides, despite professing moderation and bipartisanship have fundamentalists that take the race away from workable issues, and reroute in anger and distrust of the unknown.  Politics sucks and seem to get done in two years what most NGO's (with equal bank) get done in 9 months.  It's a shot in the dark, because there are less and less ways to get a politician to do what he said he would do once he has the power of office.  There is always a way  to swing things in your favor, when you have the upper hand.

Yes Richard, I am your worst nightmare.  Third party here I come.