some practice violin
below deck
scuttle before night
dragging carts curiously
or children
some clean fish
fights break out
one man passes out drunk on the dock
what possesses him
laughter
from faraway people running on shore
downtown lights flicker on and back off
it is not dark enough
it is not time
it is cool now
divers strip skin
load equipment rinse
fingers
raw from scraping
red cheeks, sea spray
someone at the last minute forgets their key
wants
a sandwich
or directions
some can’t tell which way IS, some need to be
rescued
it all tastes like salt
(the pilings shooting great beams of light
glowing sky
pushing rockets from cement
up)
it is time to go home
we drove on Easter Sunday to the desert and found
ocotillo
you smelled a snake somewhere in the stone
surrounding the loop trail
no one was on the road to the badlands
the wash, a jilted crevasse straining towards grand
you took my picture on the ledge
returning we hurried over farmland
purple wisteria
crusty and limp
dry air stripping scent and blooms
pale lavender barely falling into place
on the fence someone had hung a coyote carcass
which rotted and shrank in the afternoon heat
and the valley, moist from green hoses strewn across sweetened land
quieted for night
in the bedroom the dark pulls the images
sun sinking
elevation
groves of orange blossom rising up, filtering out the desert dust
little valleys stretching up into the sky
and on the road
contorted face, twisted body
that woman was dead
I wish I’d never turned my head
the vehicle’s cage what I saw
hush, now be still
it is only us that’s left to pick up the pieces.
tonight it is wisteria
farmlands
and unfamiliar roads
to take me home
The home I’ve made for you
is not soft but it is safe
four sides and a top
and even room for you to breathe
some dirt and grass
two dingy flowers
water when you are thirsty
(or to drown)
a rock in the corner taped down
you only come out when I’m
pretending not to watch.
Curl up in my hand
smooth and warm.
Our kitchen table’s a road map
not of where we’re going but where we been
Makin’ tea
tracing names on my face
like her fingernail on paper
in the mirror I check myself out
Jeanette Pereira
Moise Bonin
Helene Rosalie Mendoza
Elodie Granger
Josefa Lopez
Iris Priou
Aspasie Bonin **head shake hands out vibe four times**
drink your tea, Susanne Cormier
Marquerite Sonnier Gautenot
Anastasia Guillard
Isabel de H’orta
go outside and play in the Canary Islands, Catalina Rodriquez
Juana Rodriguez
Maria Perira
mind your peas in Grenoble, Queen Angel
After awhile I check back
in the mirror I say
Queen Angel real loud
What you doin’ in there girl? she asks
close eyes whisper
Queen Angel
my favorite Mama
of all mamas on the chart
a house sparrow flew in the front door and got trapped in our window
beating wings against glass in the window facing the street
looking up to the hills over the heads of tourists
in the corner of the salon the girls huddled
When I walked toward the bird, it flew.