Gray Hallways

my boyfriend’s other girlfriend

is a boy and we all three have

miles to sleep before we go

venturing down the lonesome halls

and stepping lightly over spiders

in morning darkness where

creaking doorframes bleat out

our shadow existences and subway

rumbles spill a pear from the counter

to land precisely between two bare toes.

Riser

What's a colour like amber but isn't amber?

Burnt orange?

I drove past a lake this morning

and it sent this colour back to me,

through broken umbrellas,

vinyl peeled away,

and I'm rarely awake anyway,

so I could be imagining this now,

a five hour flight,

slow dripping horror,

cleansing the palate,

between different perceived nostalgias.

The line between nodes is a careless visual -

it promotes completion

but being anywhere on that line,

or even the line itself,

does it ever seem as undeniable

as looking at a line?

Today it was two couplings,

one chewing like no-one's business,

and the other, on the carriage,

charging from end to end,

exiting,

coming back,

the blocking precise and as whittled

as their tools of dispute;

don't touch me

vs

what are you scared of?

Vinny says

Vinny says

Hello, 

then pretends to break my arm 

No force against force, 

a nice little lisp 

Follow their energy, then strike, 

his adidas sneakers tread lightly 

Lots of little circles,

his wrists elbows shoulders etch rings in the air

Today

the day
your chiropractor tries to be your therapist
and your boyfriend worries that you were on a derailed train
the day
you decide it's time to make some changes to your life

CIRCUIT

Mosi makes animal old man chit chat

with a head dance and cork screw arms,

taking turns to lift.

He makes us shy and happy and scared,

makes me think to hold his foot,

press my face against the window –

let him in on outside pulses 

without feeling them first hand.

Not much going on, anyways:

fruit stands, track pants, foil on the ground.

Caution tape in front of chain link,

astroturf in front of brick.

Music from a far off bike,

sun shedding

block by block.

Cherish

in the park
that is my favorite place
my sacred space

where my tears
made the river grow
where i took my little girl
on long walks

where i meditate
unearth old wounds
leave my shadows
rejuvenate

I talk to you

I  talk to you
here

and write you letters
with the tips of my eyelashes

Dear Ma,

I know know now
Mami

why you were so proud
to raise us in the Bronx

when i come
to Bronx Park
and look at this river
see the sun break through
the january clouds
feel the breeze against my face
free and clear

I know why you loved the Bronx

yes, you can hear birds chirping here
ambulance sirens on the
Bronx River Parkway
as loud as the crowd
at Yankee Stadium
when Jeter hit home runs

Now like then
yes, you gave us this / the life you
wanted to give us
and our own version  / of Central Park
you called your backyard / growing up in El Barrio
your Barrio

January ground coated in shades of orange, rusty brown and
global warm green carpet

Present moment / my shadow long on the concrete path
where I practice ushiro gedi in a hoodi
beneath the shadows of tall oaks
the blue of my childhood
still up there in the sky

Whenever I doubt that God exists
I find somewhere on the planet to ponder the miracle of trees
find a big one and wrap my arms around her
and now whenever I doubt that you
as spirit energy
eternal life
exist
I come to the first place I knew nature
where you connected me to the
Sacred Mother

and I find you
each and every time

Whenever I doubt this truth
I find a big tree
and wrap my arms around her
and hold on
for dear life