Monthly Archives: July 2017

I wake to fire in my face
I douse my head in a bucket
Of cold water
And the fire immediately
Reappears

Fire in my eyes
Fire in my mouth
Fire on the sides of my cheeks,
The water is not enough

Maybe this fire
Is one of those fires
That need to be fought
With fire?

Perhaps a scorched earth
Will offer new grasses and
new trees
New habitats for new lives
Birds and little rodents,
And new fires?

Or could it be
I like this fire,
Maybe, a little?

The way I look
Posing next to it
In the mirror,
Or in selfies on my phone?

Last night
I went to bed with fire
And this morning
I wake with fire
In my face

It is not me
Moving along the banister
Into the kitchen,
Kicking and screaming
It is not my fire,
But I know this fire
As much as
A fire can
Be known

While splashing back
The last flat drops
Of Miller Lite
Against your sour throat
Don’t forget
To be beautiful

Smelling the old encyclipeadias
Raising the lawnmower wheels
Pulling the Velcro straps
On your laceless sneakers
Beautifully…

While squeezing out the
Final gritty contents
Of your tooth past tube
Don’t forget
You are beautiful

We seek.
We sell.
We accumulate.
We benefit and exclude
Sometimes our friendships
Cause famine
Sometimes our friends’ mothers
Become our friends

Praise a rubber Jesus
Streak your eyes with teflon
Grill yiur teeth with mirrors
Throw another book on the pile:
“Practical problem solver”
“How to do just about anything”
“The duck commander family”

How many stuffed animals
Brought us here?
How many crossbows and
Hackneyed rock ‘n roll careers?

We all feel things
Inside our shoes
We learn to live with those feelings
Holes in our socks
Broken heels
Runny masquera
Gum on the deck
No toilet paper in the stall

The lighting is not the beauty
Unless, it is.

We are all taking the crash course
In Show Business.
We learn the tools
We seek control of the story.
We sleep with the awareness.
Graduation is being there
Beautifully