7/30 Variations

in the first dream 

i wake naked           wonder the house 

i do not recognize 

i think i know what this means           but not yet 

in each room i find some forgotten thing 

or some lost item of clothing 

or some part of me I've neglected 

on the stairs there are a pair of shoes 

i have never been before 

they accuse me of running off at the mouth 

of counting things i do not own 

they sit there in their shiny blues 

                a sad song 

                i do not know the words to 

in the kitchen 

the ramshackle that is my heart 

leans a soggy mess on the counter 

every other beat it calls her name           in a whisper shout 

that 

i can not hear 

because my ears 

are no longer connected to my head         

                         and i think i know what this means 

                                                                   not yet 

the last room i care to search 

is not a room at all 

it is the hollow of a throat i loved 

it is my right arm atrophied 

missing the form of her gone body 

                   it is the waist deep in memory 

                   and missing all the points 

i have never lived here 

like i thought 

this house has forgotten the shape of me 

if i ever find my eyes 

maybe they will tell me something different 

echo myself back 

                          i think i know what this means

                                                              not yet

5/ 30 Logophobia

Logophobia

there have always been words

that say what need to be said

exposing to the light

that which loves the dark spaces

in our bodies

in our world

we collect these words

one behind the other

string them along

make them make sense

fill our mouths to the brim

with the texture of them

a collection of thought

figured out

and then

something changes

not the climate of course

we have been told this does not exist

along with all the other thing

we are told does not exist

by way of attaching prefixes

post-

anti-

pre-

a way of resurrecting fears

that never died in the first place

always there lingering in plain sight

we become other words

combinations that did not exist before

a new list of collective nouns

new words to describe

the systematic grooming of a group

to be referred to as one entity

be us person,

place  

thing

state of mind of being

in this new collective

we become a litany of nothing scientific

though fully recognizable

I mean,

just the other day

in what I thought

was a civilized conversation

my unwillingness to agree with false facts

turned me in their eyes

into a battlefield of belligerence

a cacophony of chaos

such a criticism of compromise

a concern of community

the more I refused to bend my tongue

to their will

I watched them become

a clutch of pearls

a bullet of bullies

a boast of orange

shrouded in an agony of shortsightedness

they issued a warrant of warnings

wrapped in an abortion of anger

who would fear a murder of crows

when surrounded by

a disassembly of democracy

a hazard of humanity

a choke of holds

4/30 Beam

Beam

she smiled at me

and I thought

what a nice smile

disarming in it slow reveal

a slide across teeth

beaming crookedly adorable

hand slapped on thigh

because

actually slapping yourself

in public

could be seen

as what it is not

and is at the same time

just a stinging reminder

that’s all

that  is all you want

in that moment

a reminder of what sliding

into a smile like that could     bite

like how good it might feel    all over

you have fallen into too many

the saliva stinging memories

you wish you never had

some you wish you had again

but you have no desire to time travel

to be somewhere you have already been

so you feel the sting

the slap

the tread carefully

you have a habit of running

chambers first

maybe this time

this time maybe

you want to go slow

recognize your own navigation

lead with something other than

what’s been broken a time too many

to count

3/30 Pyre

Pyre

the night came quick

the way I do sometimes when the new of your skin

sparks and flames

too intense

in that moment the flush flashes over my skin

a momentary instance of shy

washes over me

then away

I am ready to spark again

this time enduring the possible burn

of too excited

too soon

but I linger in all the right places

as darkness became darker

we blazed brilliant

friction and commotion

palms full of promises

and repeat performances

the shy spreads again

I cover my skin its youth

not as young as it used to be

the bold combustion of you

wipes away the blush

and the covers

to rekindle again

the way your eyes scorch my skin

incandescent

so we do a slow burn that lasts

luminescent

devouring

a searing sentiment

you on the tip of my tongue

2/30 What the Sick Said

What the Sick

The sick said

you invited me here

lay out a red carpet

tempted me into the ring

beckoned me like a lover

the way you opened your immune system

showed me you chin

dared me to punch

didn’t see the combination of

just the right amount of work

but not enough sleep

just the right amount of love

forgetting the power of adolescent cooties

like all that hugging wasn’t transferring

more than memories

didn’t see that counterpunch

never thought you would be on the ropes

forgot I was contender

but you gon learn today

because I didn’t forget to weigh in

stayed in my neutral corner

shadow boxed with silence

chilled ringside

waiting for the moment

I would deliver the first blow

deciding whether this be bare knuckle or gloved up

knowing I could predict each blow I would deliver

you would receive

You fall into rhythms like lullabies

I was going to put you down

Standing eight  count

saw the precise moment

I could deliver my cross

you and your loyalty to friends

you can’t do everything but you do

until I get my window

then you won't

I was called for holding

so you hit a grand slam

knew you didn't have a chance

baseball games have nothing

on a  pugilist like me

we danced you from class to class

and a show and a whatever

me light on feet bobbing and weaving

bees in a hive

My right hook nearly took you down

but you parried won that round

but you forgot about the southpaw in me

the jabs and uppercuts made me famous

tried to throw a sucker punch

something about a meeting and echinacea

I didn’t want a unanimous decision

didn’t want a TKO

I wanted a knock out

then you tag teamed Mr. Boston

said he was old school

said he has been taking out the sick for decades

said he is  smooth and whiskey eyed special  

but this wasn’t wrestling

I know how to take a punch

wasn’t ready for the match to change

didn’t see that take-down coming

didn’t think I could be thrown like that

had no moves for the half nelson

He sleeper hold put me under

pinned

that’s fine

this match is yours Theresa,

but I’ll rest up

because I know you won’t

overextending your occupational hazard

now that I know with you the tactics of defense change

due to what you need to get done

I’ll be working on my footwork

kidney punches and take-downs

you don’t know how to stay out of schools

you don’t know how to disappoint you friends

you don’t pay enough attention to recognize

when you running on empty

and I am always down for a rematch

ding!

22/30 Where to Pee When I gotta Pee, Cause I gotta Pee and Shyt (see what I did there)

in the dream
I am in drag

because I do that sometimes

on a Wednesday

or some random Tuesday

the spice of life

when I walk this way

on those days

when my other wants to show his face

and strut like he can

when I am dressed this way

there are no cat-calls

because that would take a second look

and men who dismantle women
on random streets

only look once

it’s part of the illness

so I am walking

in drag down a street

on a random Wednesday

or Tuesday

good days for walking

in drag
on streets

I walk into a business

let’s say it is some random Starbucks

there fucking everywhere

it’s almost like I  can’t not walk in

I mean it’s there

they are everywhere

but I don’t want coffee

the coffee I have already consumed

insist on evacuating my body

now

like right now
like for real

so I enter

in drag

approach the bathroom

the one wearing a triangle

but I am  dressed like a boi

so the security guard

because now there are security guards

because the bathroom pass of the past

holds no weight here

he points to the men’s room aggressively

aggressive pointing I am convinced is an art

a weird one but, well, you know

I go in the direction he is pointing

because curious

because authority figure

because I am in drag

and he doesn’t know that when dressed in drag

I pee standing up
because my inner boi

in a past life
was a Boy Scout

always prepared

and I have not used a urinal in years

back then I didn’t have proper equipment

so I go
adjust my stance

not sure if the restroom is empty

it is

it is also nasty

but I got my Go Girl

and this girl

who looks like a boy
on Wednesdays

or Tuesday
has to go

standing up

so I do

someone enters as I shake off the excess

I saw it in a movie

before I walk into the stall

close the door and wipe proper

because home training

the man eyes me oddly

not sure what he is seeing

with my facial hair

hat

with my suit

and shiny loafers and curves

with my bright pink apparatus

taking a warm soapy bath

before it is returned to my pocket

I tip my hat in his direction

don’t peek cause I’m not interested

as I exit

the security guard gives me a nod

then hesitates

the second look always fucks them up

I tip my hat

walk out of the coffee shop

walk back into Wednesday or Tuesday

in drag

I wake

think of all the other scenarios

the ones that don’t end amused

but shamed and invisible

the ones that end with prison sentences and fines

the ones that expose the parts that are private

the ones that involve my friends and their freedom

it is strange

that government has chosen

to enter the most private of places
oh wait, they've already entered our bedrooms

it is wrong and so fucking unconstitutional

the preamble just disappeared

because

“We the people”

has no meaning anymore

if it ever did

17/30 Kvell

when they found their bodies outside of mine

took their first breaths

announced their arrivals

my silent prayers of peace and whole

became prophecies to be fulfilled

they own their faces and choices

their successes make me proud to be home

away from home

the miles don’t matter

when love is the map

the way we find our way back

they call and my face is beacon

is reminded I am alive and live on

in multiple locations and shapes

and eyes

they will never not be mine

never really away from my

my locket hearts holds their faces

holds their love lifts their voices

every time I open my mouth

16/30 Hoi Polloi

there are times when my heart adjusts itself

the beat syncs with pulse

a touch can set me to spinning

a kind word

the way she tastes in rainstorms

the sound of thunder rattles

through me on days when the light comes through

when I own my reflection

the skin aching for sun and breeze

the roaming of all over

the search and destroy mindset

sprinkles itself in the eyes of non-believers

who hold the destinies of other in contempt

for reasons only you understand

an adjustment made of desperation

hope held hostage

and teeth full of mouth

15/30 Late Night Musings

puffy eyes and runny nose

 shaking hands

 and that tick thing I do

 that I have noticed recently

 body flutters

 that have nothing to do with

 temperature

 or the mosquitoes Georgia rain

 has convinced they are supposed

 to be alive still

 at night

 like vampires

 chasing my face for blood

 I cannot spare

 my neighbors

 peeking through blinds

 wondering about this ritualistic thing

 I do

 at night

 especially on nights

 when my heart yearns for close

 when close is not an option

 it's

 the words that keep me grounded

 for now

 until I float away

 a happenstance of rising tides

 a loose anchor

 a pirate without a port or harbor to call home

 so I find home

 in the words falling from my mouth

 like so much rain

 like if I didn't practice

 someone other than me would know

 or care

 why do I care

then I glimpse you

 a memory

 the clouds

 the part of me that moves through the lonely

 like I do

 so well

 on nights like this

11/30 Limitations

in the after times

when we get to re think the choices

second guess the intentions

it works I guess but not in a way

that services the injured

any way we are talking the talk,

not really

I am screaming at the ceiling

which doubts my intentions

think maybe I didn’t do enough

like the last time

there are so many things to do

my head in the clouds

the way they hang so low

it is not a difficult feat

my face a slack example of time wasted

a throb in the pulse

my eyes a blur of details

it is hard to focus

the screaming has dulled to a roar

a sore throat that aches for soothing

maybe tomorrow