Saturday, December 31, 2011


worst things anyone said to me: "you are not the homeowner and your mother is DEAD!" bank employee and teller of untruths and "you won't pass your driver's test" blithe eye doc who gave me false read on vision test
best things anyone said to me: "we love each other so much it would make the love meter explode" my son "you have me" my daughter consoling me about my mom's death "i love you" jeni "he gave you a false read on your vision test" dr. nesburn
biggest creative accomplishments: finished pink smog, teen spirit, love magick anthology, sold elementals to smp
biggest physical accomplishments: able to run again, forearm balance w/out the wall
best new creative partnerships: laurie liss my amazing agent, christy ottaviano at holt,michael homler at smp,david wilk, jeni mckenna, my hot love magick writers
favorite books: the great night and the children's hopsital, both by chris adrian. i didn't mean to put you off with my enthusiasm, chris!
greatest loss: chris yackley
craziest dog: elphi
most patient dog: maggie mae
best brother: gregg
best sister: tracey
loyal friends: adam and jeni
most generous yogi: cheryl at goda
most generous facialist: sara at skin santa monica
best students: all of them
proudest moments: jasmine getting picked as one of three six grade cheerleaders
sam getting A+ and rocking the sports blog samsports
most patient eyeglass proprietor kevin at la eyeworks
best photographers: maria andreotti, mccabe russell, nicolas sage
best chiro care: dr hari bhajan khalsa
best legal support: mike stone and robyn roth
best real estate support: jim mckenna and michael cramer
best support system of people i don't personally know: you

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

the tasks of the body

The task of the eyes is this: cry and see and see and see and see and cry
Until you see the faces of the children, one and two
Not as heart beatless shades on the ultrasound screen
But hot wet babies in your arms
See less and less and less
Rip and tear
Half black out
Be held in a doctor’s young hand
Be bound with a buckle
Wear a patch
Continue to see
Be told you cannot see
See anyway
Watch the man’s face in the lamplight
Remember the high planes
The thick eyebrows
The hook
The wild splay of feral teeth
The lips that you do not need to see to know

The task of the throat is this: do not speak
Grow nodules that inhibit flow of hormones
Fear cancer and radiation
Accept the needle
sometimes forget or fear to speak
Tell the hands to write

The task of the hands is this
write and write and write and write
never stop writing whether the eyes or the throat work or not
continue to write
as if your life, all of your lives
depended on it
they do

the task of the breasts is this:
grow modestly realize you are pretty
hear false alarms about cancer
grow full and streaked with life
pour forth milk for the children one and then two at once
be proud
try, though small, to protect the heart

the task of the hips is this:
roll and shake and undulate and switch and dance
stretch and widen and give and receive
open to bring the children one and two
know your purpose has been served
be fearless be strong

the task of the feet is this
walk and skate and dance and jump and run
run and run and run
wear six inch aqua blue suede platforms
and tortoise shell stilettos
and sharp boots with chains
pound under a vest of iron
swell, hurt take the needle
almost explode with pain
worse than any the hips have suffered
accept supplements and greens and oils and adjustments
wear comfortable shoes

this is the task of the heart:
open close open close open close
open open open close at the father’s deathbed
close at the mother’s deathbed
close at the further loss of love
wear chains wear locks
rattle in the chest
think you are immune to opening
except to the children one and two
see the man’s face across the table in the dark tibetan restaurant
quake as things do
before they open

this is the task:
stand at the door on the feet
in semi comfortable black boots
do not speak of longing
do not use your hands
do not use your hips
do not use your feet
watch him skip and jump away into the night
that is only partially lit with the hope of longer days in the forms of strings of colored bulbs on wires
go inside
close the eyes
dream of a pool and a waterfall
and beautiful young women surrounding the man you desire
hear him say he considers you virginal
while they stroke his face
when the voice says, “running and running and going nowhere”
say “no, no, going everywhere
for the heart refuses
even after everything
to stay closed
for this
is the final task"

Saturday, December 24, 2011

dipped in blood

music enveloped me in his black wool overcoat
the night so cold it turned our breath to smoke
he brought me soup and movies
and we kissed ferocious
in the white haze of the lights strung from my porch

music in his big black boots
went off to play for dance
while i sat hobbled waiting for his kiss
and then found power to raise and degrade me
with each thrust
until music saw my words
written in response to his
and corrected my mistake

i can only listen when i’m falling…
or in love
but i can always, always write
with a pen dipped in flowers
or in blood

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Flirting with Disappointment

Flirting with disappointment

Disappointment has good shoes
Thick black combats and rubber soled brothel creepers
Frankentstein boots from Japan
I fetishize them but what’s the point?
They can’t give me what I really want

Disappointment apologized for something misconstrued
But he had made it clear
He didn’t want to sleep with me
Until he was in love
Which could take years he said
or a mere
So why am I still waiting for him to invite me to the masquerade ball
where I, hiding in my antique sequin gown and silver filigree Venetian mask,
can pretend I do not seek
a kiss?

All the roses in the garden have been cut
Just some thorny sticks poke out at me
My daughter shouts I hate you
And my son weeps for my eyes

I must not give up
On any of this

But as for Disappointment?
Perhaps I’ll find
some shoes instead