What with all the pain and politic
we carry
to be then liberated
by memory of ourselves
in another
Everything is an ache
and each day
It’s more overwhelming
to awake
To farewell fecund flowers and
Kesey curdled cream
a forgotten Oregon
rainbow fever dream
goodbye silk tassel bush
hello coyote
loafers tearing at the seams
you eat Al Pastor tacos for dinner with
Old English swollen fingers
I bathe in your words
and collection of full ashtrays
carry your books with me, religiously
toward handkerchief dimmed globes of light in
thine chest
in thine sky
misplaced parrots wail along with
shards of wolf wine glass pavement
pacific aster blossoms in smokey chest cavern
heads falter to hit the pillow too soon
we’re tired
tired
but ever awake
shall we walk the hill?
up
the
hill?
No, we’ll dance the hill!
en haut de la colline
monolith madness traversing
the holy triangular land of pretension and
dreams manifest
cliche swan of sadness
in the streets of 16th and Mission
fostering collective fireball tension, sweet between
lipstick smelling, meek self consciousness
dead filaments of soul extending from scalp
the ache means
nothing
has ever
felt better
But feeling is an affliction
a word hath taken from the beloved
airplane-breaker Getter
poet laureate of our hearts
he said
DON’T GO TO OREGON, and
though my soul sings of rivers named
Willamette and McKenzie
the Deschutes will take you
it’s a dangerous rapid
a giant earthly mountain tear of a
melting glacier
and I don’t seek to go back
but rather stay on
Mission streets
North Beach renaissance odyssey
Soma roast beef lilting between teeth
we do so much talking but
are really quite exhausted
There’s things I must tend to but the
big wide world of San Francisco tempts
I read a madrigal
sing her tune
dance in the fountain of a broken fire hydrant
dream of dying in the gutter together
over gas station fried chicken
dream of walking
up that hill
up
that
hill
To nail bitten handfuls of
poppy and buckwheat
en haut de la colline
Everything is an ache
and each day
it gets more overwhelming
to awake
What with all the pain and politic
we carry
to be then liberated
by the memory of
ourselves
in another