HISTORY

10.1.19
i share a legacy with the sky
we both know how to carry
some unanswered prayers
some unshed tears
we water what is most important to us

the morning i told the flowers about my love
they blossomed
sporing like mushrooms – i can pick out people
who do not know their own worth
sharing a table with the fat man
a radio voice of boom he makes my lovers laugh
two witches, a doctor, and a hung over gnome.
those who say
this is no fairy-tale
i wish them magic

HISTORY

9.13.19
Philippines II

i’ve been drowning in folklore
digging deep into the belly of uncensored
if there is any word used to describe this raw place
dense
where the air hugs your forehead with dew kisses
feeling round the clock forestry breath
they sigh here, the trees do
where the words are guttural sounds
harsh in your palate and smooth
they know their weight an purpose
imagine the smoothest strike on the bowling ally
thats what it’s like

so it makes sense
for this place to be oweled by nightmares
the things that keep you up at night
bed bugs and cheating lovers
milk without its honey
some body heavy
here we laugh our last day away the chills
sore throats and aching muscles
its worth it.

HISTORY

09.09.19
Philippines II

flock intuition will never be able to fully understand
herd mentality
like that – the best i can do
is remain open, empty
forget the tendencies nurture instilled
and learn from those who sing.

HISTORY

09.08.19
Philippines II

call me Satyr
my body has never truly felt my own
filling it with vice and pseudo control
half finished sentences we’re a little jagged
a little un-finished
when i die, bury me with the brambles and thorns
let me be dried blood iron,
sweet honey suckle and poplar.
bark tender for fire.
i’ve never been unique
one of a kind un-replaceable
my purpose here is somewhere
solitary in tolerance
servitude by example

around a plastic table five people play drunken questions
one man asks the other
“If you are a cactus, why?”
the other man does not miss a beat.
“Because I was born a cactus, and I shall serve as a cactus, I’ll be the best damn cactus i can be”

HISTORY

9.7.19
Philippines II

there’s a folk tale in this town.
it says pointing at trees will call the spirits
they’ll make your balls swell until you can no longer walk
Steph says “bit your finger if you point at trees.”
i jokingly say i’ll have no hands left soon

i know there is arrogance in me still
something disrespectfully unpure
i swear – im trying to drain me dry
become empty
malleable

HISTORY

9.5.19
Philippines II

sometimes i still roll up the little piece of paper
fancy i can move it with my mind
being in you, is kind of like that
breading hair under water
experiments
with static electricity
rubbing balloons on you head and sticking them to walls
talking to the oldest youngest physicist
who reminds me – there’s always a blind spot
and that makes vision perfect

like
how now matter how hard i try to move this tiny object
with the vastness of my heart
it will not budge
but what is inertia – to magic
like that
realizing things will never move on their own
but knowing they will still move
singing hallelujah until you cough up blood
cause the devil came from minds
but he left with our hearts
and a piece of it beats this country to life.

HISTORY
8.26.19

willingness to be accepted by a country has sullied me almost unjustifiably dishonest.

to set the record straight. my arms will be used to build homes, not tear them down.

HISTORY
03.23.19

i come from all the world
from all people
from the magic of the past
and the fury of the present
from happiness
and liberty
daughter of a carpenter and love

having little regard for those
living at the ribs of history
eating crumbs of someone elses’ bread
hiding prudence’s name
or appropriating alien experience

boss maintains of the salves’ search for prestige
perhaps it’s me that fogs this light
missing those mountains
dead men raising flags
to feel more alive