Wednesday, November 30, 2016

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

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

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

Monday, November 28, 2016

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 2nd 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.