Wash out


Washed up
On shores of dissolved expectation
Red beaten
tenderized by
abrasive immobile
measures of grandiose
Tear away
Rip tidal gruesome
Wake to woke to aching
barren bones
Indecisive truth
Patience developing
On beaches of invention
Washed up





image.jpegI’ve been afraid

of likeness

of difference

could this be it all along?

Not so simple

deliciously complex

so challenged

I forgot what my abilities were

I forgot

that this is an





is it possibly the best thing that has ever happened to me?

i want my body to grow hair

i want these muscles

long hiding beneath thick layers of self doubt,

systematic dissatisfaction,

societal oppression,

laziness grown from supposed impossibility,

misshapen idealisms & quiet longings

to twitch, stir, strengthen, define new beauties, set new standards & show them selves

internally I’ve been so patient

externally I’ve been crying for a shift I couldn’t name

if I am able

I’ll listen, closer & with more honesty

this body is mine to create

I hadn’t been able to see that before

what power, I’m grateful for the responsibility

im not attempting anything other then to express myself

I know that instrument takes years to Learn & one cannot practice enough

I am not trying to become anything at all

I am looking to exist in ernest real time

Gemme that hermitude

move got to go add new flesh to these bones

sometimes it is messy messy

hang around if you enjoy loving disarray

I am my own art

my life speaks volumes

telling stories of my reality is my truth

allow me to begin again

ive been afraid

Yours to create


craving my own 

a birth of self

truths & facets 

ultimate complexity 

ridding the destain

accusatory bells 

definitive forever quandaries 

make soup, before need 

creator, I cry 

myself, I listen 

once again, I am 

my own breed 

insistent & incessant 

a love of self 

where to exist 

express reverence 

I’ll be 

carving my own



In the sea, waves lapping at my face,
before, just a lake
How I’ve needed more room
to swim
Filling out formulating frequenting concepts
Fitting Sea
of ambiguity
If not now an ocean
Much to do with new
Far greater
Expansive eloquent elevations
Internal relative inspections
Sea to ocean to space
Perhaps to never find the
Never to stop seeking

Before Need


The wheels they turn as fast 

The engine it hums

We are preverbaly filled with 

Small moving parts

Falling igniting sliding breathing flowing pushing gliding grinding greasing 

They flew 

holding on 

such a sensation of fragility 

Hips lips 

Those incredibly tiny hairs across your back 

so delicate 

I used my nose to take stock of their presence & texture 

A sensation of fragility 

Smelling bright & soft

Ground ward 

Let go


Informality                  Dance

This flutter 

It grows for you 

your hands are so               Beautiful 

Our parallels run with grand awe 

A joyful unexplainable ease 

A symbol of crossing movement 




After dropping off my favorite sister person, dreaded herself and tousled locked her boy friend, the first of two round trips to airports today. I found myself half awake, early morning baked, shaking slightly, sun hardly up, wandering the city. The logical conclusion was to be eating and enjoying my favorite meal, breakfasting. Breaking fasting from last nights favorite snack entitled a Thursday, that I ate last night while starring into corners of the room. The only place I ever could’ve gone to pops into my head like a catchy old song. Taking deep breaths of the foggy cool morning air, I parked and head feeling like a out of tune piano, I walked into a 24hr diner in the Castro. Eating here every so often since I was tiny, I sat confidently and comfortably at the counter. A particularly sweet human, grey beard and a soft smile, came and inquired about my needs. “Hot black tea chicken apple sausage eggs over easy potatoes no toast” I told him, as if it were a single item, seamless. After the order was put in, some settling and silence had occurred he then paused and said “You’re getting ready to be a crazy old lady one day, aren’t you?” Equally amusing, surprising, startling and prophetic. “Yes. Yes, I am” I said with only a momentary sleepy delay, then generating a warm real smile. Some truths are evident only with new surroundings, some truths can only be noticed by strangers. When my food arrived I asked for the necessary Dijon mustard companion to my eggs and sausage. I ate quietly while enjoying overhearing conversations and lives being lived. A favorite pastime of mine is listening to even the everyday moments tapping away. It was within this rhythm that a family came in, a distracted yet quiet young boy in tow, clearly on a type of stay away. This table, once decided on their respective appetites, informed the same sweet human, who dropped into my knowing talented observations earlier, that the young boy is turning 5ive years old tomorrow. The adults brayed and clapped, the child looked taller and shyer at the same time. Over whelmed a bit but enjoying the attention, he smiled before shirking away into his mothers side. His excitement was met with chocolate chip pancakes, a scoop of ice cream, an interesting version of the American Happy Birthday song I’ve never heard played over the kitchen speakers. We, small in audience yet large in vibes, all patrons of said diner, sang happy birthday together. I looked up from my food and frantic journal additions to see behind me smiling glowing fresh morning faces, a deeply happy kid soon to be uncomfortably full of celebratory pancakes and before me red tulips in a slender yellow vase. Beyond the flowers two sets of red lips were set as decor on the wall, which I found subtle and delightful, matching the to the word play in my head. Two lips, tulips. The classic rectangular wall mirror reflected a scene in a play already started, common beautiful moments such as these remembered. Waiting for the bill my heart pounded. Even though I always act with courage, my body still shakes, for why, I’m actually quite shy. My chest danced as I drew a butterfly resting on a heart in a round jar my dear comrade drew and then wrote “HAPPY BIRTHDAY SF 2016” on the front. On the back I added “Happy Birthday! p.s. It’s my birthday too 😉 Your Truly, the lady with the big hat at Orphan Andy’s”. On my way out I stopped and asked the sweet human to “please give this to the boy when I leave.” We paused for a moment, my hand so lightly touching his shoulder it was like a physical whisper, we just looked and smiled such love. Tomorrow I’ll be Twenty Eight.