list for april showers

>coughing
>linguid
>stitching
>pharmacy
>fabulous
>fierce
>cat
>ghent
>new york
>short story
>serenity prayer
>i misshu

i've found a piece of family,

however distant. both in relation and miles. danielle von braun is an art director in fashion and here is some of her work.

i am a lady ragdoll

if we are being selfless we don't have to fight
for what we need, it is freely given to us.

i am trying to be brave. and
i am trying to learn.

let us go then, you and i

domestock, today.

let us go then, you and i,
when the evening is spread out against the sky
like a patient etherised upon a table;
let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
the muttering retreats
of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
streets that follow like tedious argument
of insidious intent
to lead you to an overwhelming question . . .
oh, do not ask, 'what is it?'
let us go and make our visit.

-t.s.eliot, the love song of j. alfred prufrock

light & film

maps & blurry things.
caleb zwanzig.

april 20th

it is hot now, the days.
the crickets are in the sieves
making echoes.
bees and windchimes and things.
and it's like feeling
the end of the student year.
and i told myself i am not
expecting, but really i am.
or hoping, that is
just for a knock on
the door, pleasant!
or wonderfully!
but it's o.k. i am o.k.
with happy thoughts of
being in love
because of tomorrow.
oh, her tummy is growing large
with something inside.
will he be blonde or brunette? and,
will he be my favourite?
i think of these things.
outside. on the drive.
dirty feet and warm stars.
i'm trying to be a better
person, o.k.?
i am trying to be brave.
on pavement and canyons.
to not take pleasure in hatred.
to not take steps all over me.
i am going to be free.
i can cut my hair
and be alone
and let you know i am here.
and remember to shave
and smell nice.
and when it's time,
i will run and not walk.
and when it's time,
i will walk and not run.
and where there are swings.
we will swing.
and i will be a lion when i
live in the north.

monday list for me, aussi

_a love house, soon
_se maquille
_waiting & contacts
_burgundy candle wax
_frosty friend (?)
_gathering
_heat s sss
_balance & comps

c'est la vie

allie list for me & song

the springtime of my love
i'm acting like a little girl
cold mountain air
i know that it is freezing
take it down to LA
i wish i had a river
that i could skate away on
using ideas as my maps
we'll meet on edges soon, said i

personality extreme

it's awful tiring to have a
personality extreme
mood swings
big dreams
moon beams
lost teams

it's awful hard on breathing
and heart beating when the
muscle has been threaded
with a pencil; bleeding

and it's very uplifting
to be stitched and mended
and tended
and wine box blended

with friends
and tans
and poetry slams

to feel the world never ends
and rhyming's a trend

and then you are happy again

it's awful tiring

happy earth day

the ashtray's overflowing

i have writer's block. o . k . ?

list for holiday

^certificate
^proof
^wire tap
^ACT sf
^biology
^french
^warmth
^livres
^et levres
^she
^cosmo(s)
^house of love?

two years

since this was part of my neighborhood.

whole friscos

"climbing harrison hill a little like radar machine of eternity in the sky, huge, in the blue, by pure clouds crossed, gulls, idiot cars streaking to destinations on its undinal boom across shmoshwaters flocked up by winds and news of san rafael storms and flash boats- there o i always came and walked and negotiated whole friscos in one afternoon"

jack kerouac, lonesome traveler

forgetting to fall asleep

and remembering to feel forgotten.

wherever the leaf falls

elementary garden way
elephant parade
rain
florescent tubes, groove
toon, rude.
cement and toes and female woes.
headache brain
sparkle wave
finger rings sweat hide
and go seek.
cigarette holder longer further
more and you, meek
smoke light flute peru
pretty flower, flag
come find her
venus trap collapse re-do
the free love girl
not me, not you
one more smoke
lists, crisp, to roll
not this.
script scribe penmanship
fly.

aprilily

there are little pink flowers
on a tree.
and there are leaves so bright
they're yellow
and in shapes of hearts
like new spring love.

magnolia branches droop
but birches bloom
and kids are playing soccer
across the street.

shadows are in the crevices
in the foothills
and it's almost dusk.

i breathe in through the filter
and it is good.
the Times is in the driveway.
i am barefoot.

this is a small town
and green.
not green like you'd want
me to say, but green.

the parents come home now
after a long day
to daddy screams and
little sticky kisses.

tomorrow they'll leave again
before i wake up.
but that is then. and we all hope
to live in the infinite now.

more tiny buds are trying to
burst
and lemons are falling from the
one in the front yard.

scrolled wrought iron gates clink
and mommy comes in the
front door. and i'll light another.
why not?

i think of the guy in the bar last
week who did not take me seriously
when i said "i am a poet"
but why not?

"one to one" the kids yell
they are keeping score.
the trucks
the family car
the water guns
and cones marking goals.
skateboards for eight year olds.
summer excitement for soon.

soon.

people always tell me soon.
i am sober.
today.
and that is good.

i think about trips.
for soon. soon. soon.

soon.

adventure, served warm please

spring list

..good, plain water
..packing
..one on top of the other
..pockets
..home and house
..two more months
..courier
.."brave" somewhere
..being proud
..goodbye

the shared flute, or how the wind blows

and he said, "none of this belongs to me."
and then he said, "we have nothing to lose."
and i held his hand. and i could smell him.
his shoulder.

we lied down and the air was heavy. of
thoughts. and being content. with
how things are. and i thought of bob dylan.
and i thought of nothing and nothing to lose.

and it was usual. being on the blue bed.
that sits up high. and it's a little un-
comfortable. but it is home. and the fact
is, i remember things.

there's a constant need to have things
from thrift stores. things that used to
belong to other people. and it's just like
he said. "none of this belongs to me."

we are trading everything. and i'll trade
you my patchwork heart for your pencil
brave. i'll trade you mug for owl. i'll burn
a candle if you.

so he gave me a kiss and i touched his hair.
but being even doesn't matter. i'll drive if
you sing. i'll give you this and i will be happy.
today, once.
forever.

strawberry fields

2:18am sitting around eating doritos listening to magical mystery tour. on blue carpet. then strawberry fields comes on and i'm just seeing california farmland from the car with eight year old eyes. and my dad is turning up the volume.
forever.

thenewno2

i went to amoeba, tuesday.
i met dhani harrison, also tuesday.
i wrote a little diddy about this musical experience.
if you'd like to read, it's here.