Culture, San Francisco, Poetry, Music, Reviews, Short Stories and Life
Imagine a still clear blue lake. Barely a ripple mars the surface. A bird dips under the thin film of the surface for fish, a turtle bobs along near the bank, and though stones jut into it’s edges, and the seasons come and go, nothing much ever changes. No invaders have found this lake. No […]
MoreLife when you rely on charity for shelter You really don’t need To bang so hard on my door: Heart race to open I am poor not dumb Celiac, can’t eat gluten: Not a little, no! You ask how I am? When you don’t want to hear it You use against me Pain that you […]
More‘Murica I’ve walked your roads and Stared at your stars, I’ve bathed in your rivers, I’ve driven your cars. I sat by your whirlpools And ran you through my mind – I’ve tried to ignore Fox And all that hateful jive. ‘Murica I’ve ridden your highways, Puzzled as you say: If you ain’t from here […]
MoreEnough of this simpering, it’s time to fire up the Patti Smith and perform a barefoot incantation to the Goddess. I whisper to Lilith and smear the bloody sigils above my door which hide the corruption within. I am she of blood fire rising, screech owl haunting my dreams and lay myself newborn and bloodied […]
MoreThe winters they are too long And the summers are too hot And your arms don’t reach out for me Now they’ve touched upon That pretty boy next door My truck it is not running The icebox is blowing hot And your lips they don’t smile for me Since you’ve been talking to That pretty […]
MoreFillmore in full bloom: Gaudy pink pom poms fall ripe Cruel wind plucks trees bare. “Is this miso hot?’ She stumbles, I say “not yet.” Meaning falls broken. I try Japanese She tells me she’s from Beijing The miso still is cold. ..but my face is red – There’s the heat today!
MoreOutside my window in the alleyway the tinny throbbing beat of old fashioned electro dance rises up into my room with a threatening vibe of the promise of a noisy night. The pipe-heads are dancing in the streets, exchanging lines and white lies, carrying stones and rocks, barefeet, some in socks and no shoes, or […]
MoreGrit makes oyster words Chewed cud-like, spat out, pearl-wise: My shell is empty! Early heat, late freeze Kills blossoms still on the trees: They don’t get to fall. Wasabi powder Awake dulled senses brightly! I need heat not grit! (Photograph my OWN)
MoreSpring gusts pick up dirt – ‘Frisco leavings, toxic waste. Mask feels good on face! Tokyo has no trees: I wonder how we still breathe? My cactus works hard! None of us can breathe: This is the time of no air! Open the window! Yet I do not dare This springtime fails to comfort: Wind […]
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