Santa Ana's Wind

Swift Legs Mojave won in flagrante delicto

         slow dancing in Santa Ana’s arms

and they blew hot toward forgetfulness

         down the 10 passed San Berdooni‘s charms

where her old red stolen wreck’s engine

         and his shiny black convertible top

finally caught fire in a two-star pile-up

         in a motel parking lot late night stop

well he had her and she had him

         while they slept off a naked tonic and gin

celebrating a Vegas win on a moon cool autumn night

         Ana’s old hot wind started blowing again

through his mother’s garage in Hacienda Heights

        

         old mom threw some gas on the flame with

her Jesus jive over ice-cold beer and they

         booked into Hollywood with hell

freezing over and a dream in gear of finding

         some fame engraved in a big bronze star

under their dirty feet and old chewed gum

         burning up tombstone boulevard

        

        

A Person Sitting In the Dark Am I

sitting in dark am I

in these shadows

grown by the moon

whose dull light

robbed each tree

of green

and sky of blue

only to shine the merest points

at this earth

to tumble from broken mirrors

what a strange existence live I

among the murmuring lost,

a path along the stream

spirits deflect futures

at a fleeting touch

afloat in currents

formed nowhere.

a conversation began

now or then

with whom or them

how long ago

it happened again

and again we spoke

and spoke

against our walk

our steps

on ancient streets

of a river

where memory,

thrown unheeded,

by happy dead

who smile

and laugh

and work

and trod,

their eyes, oblivious

to this color washing cities,

sometimes stare,

you at me or me at you,

with lives

full of watchful anger,

or envy,

or bland joy

wrapped around,

of tears, streams, washed sullen

from faces

who now so live .. or not

Puffer Fish

you had that salt water tank,

remember? in your living room,

in the old house on spring street.

when I first saw that puffer, I asked

why you put a poisonous fish

in with the others.

the puffer was cute, you said,

it looked like you and hovered

at the center of the tank.

you said he didn’t bother them

and they didn’t bother him,

they all just swam around.

one night, after dinner,

in the tank, that puffer

started moving funny.

you screamed at your step-kids,

your 2^nd wife, they all ran

to find a net to fish him out.

I watched as he kind of did

an underwater herky-jerky dance

and rose belly-up to the surface.

in only moments, seconds,

the other fish in the tank

did that same dance and died.

after you picked up your drug habit

had step kids in rehab, got divorced,

got arrested for grand theft,

a remembrance of other fish

dying when the puffer died

is why I said you were toxic.