true.2

i reinvented myself in motion yet stillness was my hallmark. i used to stare into the eyes of hurricanes until they closed. now i am underneath them, plotting a course for open ocean. still they settle into land by choice and suicidal tendency.

i wonder how i survive the oppositions. chaos wants me for my calm. the depressions look to me for uplift. they both know i have survived them. i have survived my self. know me for family. for i have lived there, too.

hurricane

The world did not wake me up singing on a Friday, unless a whistle in my bones counts. Over a pastry from Pushkin Bakery and coffee, I tried to manifest my namesake and bring Hurricane Katia out of the Gulf of Mexico and into my energies ona late summer early fall morning. She was swirling around so heavy, I was liable to knock some neighborhoods around. I had to figure out could I settle all my madness, and make it righteous good?

typewriter.eight

a time before cursors. a
land before chrome
paper journals blue and black
our future unknown

i am walking the beach
early morning barefoot
unblinking at dawn
not far
from

home
loopy cords
fall off an old
phone

cloth covers
worn off
spines broken
soft
and

no space
is safe in these books
in these thoughts
between oceans
and lines