de una manera o otra quiero
cavar mi ruta entre la tierra
sentir su calor
puedo imaginarlo envolviendome
sintiendole entre mis dedos
encajonandome entre su esponja suavesito.
y puedo que sea que
en ese momento
cuando finalmente me duermo
me encierran los ojos
y en vez de ver negro o rojo
los encierran y veo el azul del cielo
el color del huevo de petirrojo
solamente encontrado en la naturaleza.
y desde mi boca
en vez de palabras o sonrisas
van a brincar flores chiquitos y brillantes
creciendo por pequenitas parras
torciendosen
empujando su propio ruta por la tierra
para sentir la incandescencia del sol.
van a mandarme la brilla
y voy a descansarme
mirando con asombro al cielo
sintiendo el sol en mi cara
y respirando el aire del sueno
caliente y dulce
de una manera o otra.

one way or another
i want to carve my way into the earth
feel its warmth
i can imagine it surrounding me
feeling it between my fingers
encasing me in its soft sponginess.
and perhaps
in that moment
when i finally fall asleep
i will close my eyes
and instead of seeing black or red
they'll close, and i'll see the blue of the sky
the color of a robin's egg
that you really only find in nature.
and instead of words and smiles
small brilliant flowers will spring from my mouth
growing in little vines
twisting and turning
pushing their own way up through the earth
to feel the incandesence of the sun.
they will send that brightness down to me
and i will rest
gazing up at the sky with amazement
feeling the sun on my face
and breathing the air of sleep
warm and sweet
one way or another
5/12/98

after
 
i don't fall out of love very smoothly
gravity doesn't affect me well
i drag my heels and jostle
on the way home
and eventually i get there
and sit up
dazed
as the dust clears.

sept. 3 98
****
in the circle

there is a minister clasping my hand.
and smiling at me.

"i can"
"i am not alone"

tightly twined fingers
her once-folded hand pressed
on my small, sweating, church-fearing one.

the image of dust on a road
trodden by thousands of unseen feet
coming up behind me.

this woman mass around me i see
through blurred eyes
as if the dust has been kicked up.

and one by one
these brave smiling women
weeping, loving
as they move
one by one
on to the dark path
by the river.

i kneel down
my knees and legs brown with dirt
and feel the hand lower onto my back.

once-folded
again, touching me-
and smiling.

sept. 3 1998
****
each day i push me and my love poems
further into the forgetting room
partying with henry & june
and the talisman
and all the other little women
talking about einstein’s dreams
and i notice she’s come undone
that girl, interrupted.
"i want to believe," she says.
she’s just a bag of bones, though
trying to find a light in the attic
calling out "dear theo!"
and with each tear she
writes 100 love sonnets
trying to find those
sweet
little girls in pretty boxes.
i smile, cause really all i want
is to be born on the fourth of july
and to truly discover
the art of the x-files.

feb. 17 1999
written while looking at my bookshelf ;)

****
I’m burning your hair just to smell the sweetness of the ashes
like I used to smell on your pillowcase
hot water without the goosebumps
and I always loved showers there
but there’s always a reason to leave
and god knows we’ve found a few

so all I can do is twist like your fingers on plastic
you playing cartwheels on my right breast
laughing like you don’t know
how heavy your pale feet can be

I’m throwing bricks at the sidewalk again
like I fell on you, tangled in flannel
and each time I shatter into little red pieces
the dye slipping from my hair onto that clean white undershirt of yours
but maybe that last time a few tears can make
that brick powder stain a little bit

because somehow I want that to stay
hoping I’ve ruined at least something of yours.

march 1 1999