boa Domingo

spring is gray this year 

and wet

the wet that gets into your bones

your psyche 

your entire world view

ankles, knees, elbows 

bones, joints, sinew

are not safe here

s’up dawg?

the stock market crashed

the electrical grid failed

plunging a peninsula into darkness 

nothing new 

feels like home, Texas

same shit different place

the view is prettier perhaps, 

different, older

the earth continues to revolve 

on its axis

around the sun

people have stopped panicking 

when things go sideways 

there is no norm, no ballast 

there is only the thing bubbling 

just below the surface 

just under flesh, sinew

in a heart pumping too shallow 

the thing we hold in check

we are not our governments

we are humans trying to to live lives 

“I’m on fire but I’m trying to not to show it…” ~ Free, Florence and the Machines 

looky loo

if I leave the walls all white

how will that feel? look?

could I style the cabinets green?

a soft, warm sage?

the floors are gray 

the gray I thought I thwarted 

left in Texas

the gray that follows 

wherever I run

manifesting in low days of rain

love is…

she curls around me like a spreading vine 

the vibration of her snoring, a bloom protruding

holding still, not to wake her

one hip too warm, the other so cold it’s pained

I watch her sleep, little paw motions of dreaming

then a swift strong kick in my gut 

meh

If you see me walking around 

haggard and bleak, I’m ok 

It’s my standard MO

pretending to be a function human

huh

flavoring salts

and sugars

I could never be a hero

or a villain 

too much running and athletics