As A Child I Did Childhood Things 

As a child

I did childhood things

I packed a small bag of clothes

A journal, my one-eyed doll

and fled from war

The fireworks popped houses off the streets

Shattered and exploded

I hide among the debris

When I was raped and beaten

I was the cold mud and the roots

beneath my body, rustic roads

The maggots of the dead were my citizens

The worms, the trains

My blood, the smoke from the chimneys

In the darkness of the ghetto street

I was a ninja in a forgein land

guarded by red branches hiding

as the gun shots ran on window glass

I snuck across the ground under abandoned cars

hid behind old burnt out homes

Flipped over piss stained mattress

A child with missing sneakers

had penny candy by his side

with a bullet in his brain

So I took his candy and savored the sweetness

as I hid in a mulberry tree until the hungry blue

zombies came and went

When my belly was swollen and empty and my back

bare I was a monkey girl and searched

for apple’s and pears and blackberries and goose berries

I scavenged wild morel mushrooms and dandelions and greens

I sucked up tiny green sour grapes

I climbed and swung

when I found a fruit I’d eat

the core and worms and all

If I fell and got bloodied, I hid it

It was a curse.  I didn’t limp

When I found nothing to eat

And a warm AK 47 in my hands

I was a great hero

when I killed the hawk men

and freed my homeland

The people would throw me a feast of roasted

venison and turkey and pies and cakes

With juices and butter and sweet red wines

with songs and dances with large walls and warm fires

I’d have a dry warm safe bed one day,

I would have people, I dreamed as I aimed into battle

felt the sting and pound of the ground

And my fallen brothers coming at me

In the winter snow with frozen toes inside plastic bags

I was the first to explore so far north

I followed the smell of bear and stole into old ice caves

I made a house under the great pines

broke the ice and fished with my hair and beer can

I followed the river and stole north

I stole bitter acorns from squirrels

when I found a dead thing it did not go to waste

Covered in scraps of lost artifacts

I was the last of my exploration party

My one armed doll chewed and rotten

my journal wet and dirty showed the map of my trail

well beyond where dragons or fairies ever go

I pushed on until the trail softened underfoot,

There I stepped into sinking brown mud

grasping for the first of wild leeks,

with rocks in my in mouth

I was beaten with bondage

I was warrior captured

forced to labor for the enemy

I would not shame self by crying out

When the demon goats shoved me in a bag

And throw me in the back of a pickup truck

I did not panic like the screaming

children under me

I found the seam and breathed slow

I did not cry for help

I saved my energy for the chance to run

when I had it, I ran in the shadows

barefoot with only the rope

that bound my hands behind my back

I ran til the city was new

and my legs strong enough

to kill and the rope a bracelet of freedom

I stole food and shoes and diamonds and life

I was a master spy behind enemy lines

I stole until I had enough to find home

In middle of a concrete street

I gave birth to a blue dead jar

it was a tiny fluffy head SOS sent out to sea

riding the waves and currents to bring back aid

It’s dark eyes searching for an island of refuge

a man of honor

When it came again and lived I hid it

and gave it all I could

I gave pieces of myself for coins

to buy it blanket and food

I gave everything

still, I sent it out to sea

Four times I sent an SOS

Until my blood found the riptides and the sea turtles

met the mermaid queen on the corral of the sea

When the sickness came

I could not walk, my knees swelled

my body ached and my scalp was a drum

for the great wolf chief to beat with his tail

I was poisoned by the evil hound

who wanted me for his bone

Under his jagged teeth

I pounded my fists into his mouth

I splintered and my marrow filled his belly

Covered in dirt, wearing lice

I walked hand and hand with my sister

With one miss matched sandal each and bone thin

I was blessed and happy

When the nights were cold I was her blanket

And She, my pillow

We ate avocados and little fish

when luck and pennies were on our side

We were best friends, ladies on a stroll

In the darkness I heard her scream

I tried to hold onto her

Her finger nails dug into my body

Tore my flesh

her hair was in my clenched fists

Her blood under my nails

the dark shadow lizard

Dragged her away screaming

and left me alone in our rock pile home

I was in the shadow of a great temple

writing my name with my wand

To bless the yellow dirt
when a blast went hard and heavy

I could not hear but the ringing of ice cream truck

At the park where children yelled and played

I could taste the metal in mouth

concrete and salt in my flesh

I was buried under the rubble

the stick still in my hand I was a wizard

becoming all powerful but first I had to fall

through the black hole to other side

and find the evil wizard

who had blasted my temple

let blood magic into the world

I had no hair, on a sheet

I laid hooked up to robots

my body shook with cold sweat ache

The vomit came out my mouth

shit and piss was cold and sore on my body

My eyes could not focus

Blurry and heavy all around me was tiny grey

hands holding me down

I could smell their copper and plastic spaceships

The aliens were inside me

trying to harvest my body

I had to fight so I made a clone of myself

climbed in my nose and slayed the creatures

until I could no longer

badly wounded I found my heart

kicked it when slowed

I kicked until my legs fell off

then I punched until my arms rotted off

Then I head butted and finally bit

Until their beeps and buzzing stopped

And I could not feel myself

Sounds of leaves in Madison

Here, November means fall
And fall is when the leaves change from green yellow pink orange red burgendy brown. And November is when the leaves are mostly burgendy brown with a few yellow holding onto summer.

They all eventually give up and fall to the ground. The wind blows them down the street,  which is made of pavement here and the sound of leaves scraping and crunching against it, is the great harbinger of rain and ice and snow and bitter winds and gray skies and negative temperatures. Now it is warm and the sun shines but the sky is a pale blue and the leaves are brown and most are down

This year everything seems important.  The way the burgendy brown leaf falls on my open journal as I write or the noise the door makes when eldest daughter opens it,  home from high school or the warm soft fur of my little dog. The sweet soft voice of my littlest daughter squeaky  singing songs of her imagination or the beep I get when husband texts he is coming home. It is all very important and clear and center of my focus, my awareness, my life

I can’t hold it or collect it or slow it
But I know it and how it feels as it fleets across me, scaring and healing me, breaking and building me -this time fabric, this god to mewpid-20151002_182825.jpg

I don’t want to die

Doing what I love.

There are a lot of things I love including writing, cooking, bodyboarding, reading, playing video games, playing ball with kids, dancing,  painting, making sex with Henry,  flying and taking a walk to name a few and if I die doing any of them it’s not beautiful.  It is horrible.

It is always ugly to die, dip shitwpid-20150718_144730.jpg

I’m all grown up

And it getting to the suck part where the old people are us and our parents are dead and the babies aren’t babies any more and everything hurts

Sunlight on my face in the crisp morning air as I sip a cup of coffee is as good as gets.

If it’s true that old people just get lonely,  I am screwed

I wonder how many dogs I’ll live with

Everytime

Someone asks for prayers, I want to say, O sure I’ll do nothing, dip shit as I roll my eyes and shake my head in disgust at their wasted pleas

I don’t though.  I know they are stupid and weak and afraid -I am too

The main difference between us is I get peace from impermenance.  When shit gets real hard, it’s what gives me compassion and grip

I don’t want them to know I get meaning from all their unanswered prays.
I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore
Just because they can’t find their keys or are dying of cancer in front their family.

I’m just happier believing it’s bad luck

Everytime