The rain just can not be good for this-
having my grandmother running off scared.
Wondering if I'll ever stop the tears from falling
drowning deep.

for Dori

An off duty New York cop was
Killed by friendly fire here -
He was innocent, running after a thief
One brother shot by another brother.

I can't grasp the meaning of friendly fire.
There's just nothing friendly about
a bullet intentionally released through the air
Readying to kill.
Imagining animal stampedes.

His family and friends
Placing candles and flowers outside his home in Brooklyn.
A makeshift memorial blooming with tears.
A heartbreaking song filling dense air.

The flower petals drying out and falling from stems
Scattered along the concrete,
Still pungent in color
Tunneling in circles from the wind and
Eventually being chased down streets
The gusts making sounds like sirens
Only to find a lonely tree branch to settle into to rest.

Sometimes
While procrastinating
I've been known to watch
No Reservations at
One o'clock.

I know full well Tony is
A cocky egotistical asshole who smokes too much and will
Most likely die of liver failure but
This man eats a certain way that makes my mouth water.
Watching people eat usually disgusts me.

On days like today
Where my body won't do things right
And my mind wanders off down the wrong way
Storm waves crashing on concrete jetties
And receading back to the mouths of nature, swallowing whole,

I find myself crying.

The world spins webs of anger
My ears ring,
My eyes see truth and fog
I keep checking emails hoping
Someone will write and hold me in their arms and give me answered to questions
I haven't asked

My cat watches from across
The room
While I spill my tears to her

She has no opinion,
she let's my cry
Eventually sitting by me while
I sing her silly lullabies.

Jason Bay
There is something about
Your forearm muscles
That
Make me hot.

I notice them when your at bat
Your elbows too.

Jason Bay
There's something about you

I call you the Silent Warrior.

Morning rituals/
Coffee, yogurt shake, water/
With a straw in each mug.

Holy rain pouring
From the large mouths of sky gods
Coating secret ground

A haiku

Exercising, LOST
to bed quite early for sex
Without skipping meals.

I've thought a lot about you,
I hate admitting that since I pretty much loathe you.
Wishing I had the strength to wipe my hands clean of you and
Not giving a shit

just like you.

I have slept a lot.
And though I've been sick in the regular
sort of way-
Over the counter flu remedies
sprawled
throught the
apartment,
half used tissues heaped on the coffee table like roadside debris,
I think I've stayed under the covers to avoid having to feel...
Empty.
Asking god for a few more hours of solitude.

We picked her up Sunday.
Hugh playing chauffer, minus the cap.
Holding doors,
carrying store bought cake,
rolling windows up,
taking a left, then a right-
Answering uneventful questions like boring weather talk.

Gazing out windows at ponds and green buds
Shifting only to avoid feeling that I needed to listen.

On Saturday
We drove along thin country main roads
Towards the Poconos
Skully pushing on like a good old car would
(we've determined she's a
4th gear kinda gal)

When we got there
The four of us and
the old walrus looking dog
(his white whiskers resembling ivory tusks)
went to the man made beach with it's well built jetty.
The non blood brothers walking together- as boys would,
Talking incoherently about life,
A mere strip of rock and green wood.

The sisters would sit watching the squawking geese glide around the man
made lake.
Wondering all the while how the big fish got there-
Thinking of stealing one of the neighbors rowboats to get to the
middle of this large pond.

Hugh would later indicate
The fish got there most likely through a small
Stream that stretched from the dividing river but,
I could not understand how a trout could wiggle along in such shallow waters.

And so,
Us women in our girlie intuition would conclude,
(The old dog resting nearby)
That the fish must have been brought in,
(Imagining a 16 wheeler driving along
A one lane turnpike hoot hooting
Gallons of barrels of fish to be released into still water)

The geese seemed to start squawking in anger,
And, knowing the folklore of angry geese we all stood to leave,
The sun gleaming onto the rowboat reflection
Millions of hauled in fish finding their home along the
Ash wood colored landscape.

i wanted stillness
i wanted my brain to stop
thinking deep darkness

It's been a long few weeks.
a lot's been happening

(this apple wireless keyboard kicks ass)

none of it's really interesting
except of course if
you know me well, and know how hard things are
around here.

(my mom texts me and e-mails me in french when she's worried-
i think it's easier for her to make sense of these things
when speaking in native tongues)

i hadn't been feeling well,

(there's also all those NY state people for the ramps)

I only found out recently it was due mostly to anxiety
anxiety is depressing-
and though the right foot's not due to anxiousness
i do feel a sense of liberation

my brain tumors are fine

(my mom stopped writing in french)

the keys on this keyboard are easy

i don't know why i got so worked up about it.

Thinking of my walls
Being painted deep fusia
Dark chocolate dreams