peel session

my version of aromatherapy was dropping a grapefruit peel down the sink and turning the switch to obliterate. i met someone like that. her life like a grapefruit peel after she lost her daughter to suicide. i did a lot of deep stretches. i wrote a letter on greenish colored paper with a pinkish colored pen. i had an assortment of vivid dreams and got up easily every morning at four am. prayer got me through a couple rough patches. the rain materialized and cleared into sunshine. i got to feeling so very alive.

papercut

I gotta paper cut off a flyer I was distributing. The walls were papered blue. I had nothin better to do than let it bleed until a friend of mine could wrap my finger around a bandaid. It felt a little like getting your fingertips pressed in ink.

 

Except this time someone cared about you.

typewriter.nine

i carried paper with me
everywhere

in a knapsack
or an overcoat pocket in the winters
of west side chicago

alleyways
my back against bricks
i held them under weak hanging
lights threading open mics

the Appalachian trail
did not stop me

the subway trains
the bars
the libraries (of course)
into parks where the sky
opened up all my thoughts

often i lay them out
beside my jack
rocks

i felt the social
vacuum
around me

dead air

i didn’t
care
so alive
was i

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