the rule of
primacy and latency
holds true
i remember the ocean
and his cock

travel writing

driving from los angeles to berkeley for a poetry gig in a pickup truck

he made it clear

with his cowboy smile

it was

okay to be myself


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


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

art childhood ecology education Jazz Music nature poetry Short Stories sociology Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

the sun is exploding

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


this humble poet
i am so glad
to see it end

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

pink stucco hotel

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
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

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

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

mourning in palm springs

he comes pounding
on the door
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

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

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

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

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