the rule of
primacy and latency
holds true
i remember the ocean
and his cock
Categories
Tag: California
he made it clear
with his cowboy smile
it was
okay to be myself
having
sweet tea in an irish joint
patrick’s roadhouse
green t-rex mounted on the roof
why the hell not
santa monica
pacific coast highway
a bust of rimbaud staring
at our obscene amount of french fries
we found ourselves eating in miss havisham’s sitting room
surrounded by
bric-a-brac of the damned
laughing at local customs
i decided
on my fifth trip to california
(terrestrial green valley
little indian girl that i am)
to give myself to the pacific ocean
for the first time
so
we stopped in santa barbara
i was only going to dip my toes in
kicking off my ballet flats
but i allowed the tide
to pull me out
again and again until i
fully clothed in blouse and skirt
walked into the sea waist high
edna pontellier awakening
with no desire to die
it was that moment
i felt pure bliss streaming
down in salt water tears
it was that moment
i was most alive
and my drama queen persona has worn thin
my legends are in france begging their gods to shit truffles
their german wives to make amends
and i
i
this humble poet
i am so glad
to see it end
a man and a woman lean transfixed
shoulders touching
over the rooftop wall
of a pink stucco hotel
in santa monica
bearing a neon flamingo sign
drunk and high on each other
poetry
and the lights rising off the boulevard
into the night
there is nowhere else either of them would rather be
they love each other perfectly in this moment
he is 37 at the telling
she
35
this is where i must keep the memory of you
framed in my mind
to be safe
leaving the rest of your hell and drumstick bag
in the trunk of a rental car
outside an LAX terminal
you’re probably
wanted in arizona
for imitating the messiah
it would be madness for me to do otherwise
he comes pounding
on the door
windows
the pussy inside my brain
with vodka breath
and vicodin eyes
every six months or so
causing me to remember him
my skin forming prickly protective needles
before the sickness
before the california desert made him insane
Categories
animal style
all it takes to unravel me
is an in-n-out burger receipt
moreno valley
found in the bottom
of last season’s purse
from the day you revealed to me
the wonders of the secret menu
fuck you for all the good times
i must leave behind me
Categories
blue note baby
every morning
as i dress for work
my record player
is spiraling blue train
eve spitting pomegranate seeds
the air surrounding me
fills with your cologne
my hips move
as if you were there
to dance around
tongue remembering
your mouth, bladed grass, and
the endless bourbon
baby, you have found a way
to make jazz forever sound
like california