Ode to Donald Ray Huston Newport Beach, San Diego, sun is shining as usual. The passing parade of flesh pushes me forward, guitar in hand, batik, and leather, big cigar, Monticello, my fav. “Hey Baby, you play that thing or just carry it around?" Deep tenor, balding jeans, t-shirt, guitar in hand, big cigar. Bends me a B flat, into the night, blues in E forever. Silent pact, never signed or seen.
New York bound by way of Santa Monica. Empty pockets, 4th of July. Hit a beach party, big celebration, all night long until the combat clad party killers come rounding up the usual suspects.
Everything left behind, we make our attack, "Back Door Man" silent beach treasure chest, steaks still on the grill, sneakers t-shirts a jacket towels suntan oil Stephen King novel portable radio and 42 pounds of aluminum cans.
Cold can cash cruise Up the coast Doobie Brothers "Rolling Down the Highway" San Fran, Oakland, Berkeley.
In some way off leopard skin lounge dark faces move to some mind-bending beat learned about SAX. Blowin the blues, warm brass fits right between my thighs, hot lips, tongue-sucking reed, man. Ain’t never gonna stop.
Wild men flying over broken yellow lines fortified with Quaaludes, crowds, old Motown hits.
time warp time northern lights without electricity, some cosmic crew along the Redwood Avenue. They grow everything from scratch with names like Autumn Song, Angel and Tree.
On the road again. Reno Las Vegas Bright Lights Big City.
Denver Donald Ray is sick, real sick. River rebuilds the engine, tries an herbal cure brewed on a parking lot fire.
Kansas City here we come. Salvation Armies soup kitchens soul sailing we survive.
Cities get greyer Chicago Cleveland PA Turnpike NJ Turnpike George Washington Bridge
Bleecker Street sidewalk serenade oiled with Schlitz Malt Liquor in a brown paper bag. Washington Square Park, lepers from the dark. Are we really happy here? I can't say anymore not in words, just the blues.
New Yorkimos in our vanigloo my insides are freezing, we blow a loose joint, even the dog gets high‘ frozen fingers on the flute "Desifinato," "Moondancing" "On Broadway" "Gotta Go Home" It's a "Masquerade," "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" "Someday Someone Will Watch Over Me" Yeah
Key Food shop and dine garbage gourmets it's always so quiet at night we sit in the front seat share a stolen bottle of Beaujolais sing old country songs to one another over and over again our ceremony no papers no witnesses
You took a sociological exploration to the other side. Runaway heroin train barreling through your veins. I looked up and you were gone.
Saw you on the street the day before you died, no one home inside.
Honey, I loved you, ya know .
Your vacant stare followed me home.
They found you the next day, rocked your boat one last time. "River" scratched in the dirt. They said you were smiling.
Death is For The Dead
AIDS AIDS AIDS I'm saying it The world looks and sees what it wants They have memorials written They have you wasted and dead skeleton in your bed.
AIDS AIDS AIDS Oliver Wendell Holmes once said "To find true happiness get a terminal illness and take real good care of your self" real good care, pajama parties, cookies and milk, afternoon naps kinda care, lots of LOVE LOVE LOVE.
I see angels flying above everyone's head. I see miracles all day long. In oranges, brown fat crawly bugs on the big time journey across the towpath, ducks in winter, Ginkgo trees raining yellow GINKGO GINKGO GINKGO.
My dog smiling and wagging its tail to the rhythm of three sweet altos "knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door" Lint and dust dances in the afternoon, toy Buddha’s on 202 talking to wild things. Toothless old men who caught wild fish in Finland who keep youth in blood pumping flowing free.
Rivers are always miracles, they aren't stopped by rocks, bridges boulders, beer bottles, old tires, dead bodies, or even dead refrigerators. They go around over above under embracing all they touch, they never go back to the beginning to get it right, changing forever, seeking, accepting, expanding, being.
We have mortal worlds filled with gods, Buddha, Christ, Vishnu, Mohammed, and Henry the hitchhiker's god. They walk us through to the end, shedding our named coats, our finely pressed out, laid out, figured out, fitted in life suits.
No expectations, no more mundane earthly matters, 9-5 skull famine, weight loss, facelifts, fashion statements. Free to go home, the early release program, do the mambo till dawn, safe sex, erotic safe sex, free of judgment guilt and shame.
Death is for the dead and living is for every one else.
AIDS AIDS AIDS Hey, I said it. Don't memorialize, metaphorize, hypnotize, categorize, or sanitize me. Its hard enough living with an illusion. No more definitions of my death. No more sympathetic death sentence eyes. I'm not dead dying, no siree bob, I'm living just thought I'd let you know.
Jesus Never Lived Here
Downtown has it’s own flavor cuchifrito, jugo de naranja Ruby cries for her roaming romeo Jose left his seed not much else
now her broken dreams mix with the rest ground into the grime of some tenement hallway
the babies are wailing little bruised hearts in little bruised bodies cigarette burns fractured bones postnatal abortions street style stuff it in a glad bag
angels crying in the distance wings on fire lost sirens in the night souls screaming Jesus never lived here
paper-thin walls tell stories all night long loud beats loud voices feet shuffling meringue junkies heaving their guts blood on the walls rocks in the bed barbed wire underwear
outside steam is rising a lower class of losers patrol broken lives they harmonize in some Berlioz-type movement works, works, works apparatus, apparatus Smurf, Poison, Dr. Death
rats big as cats sucking fucking eating rats nourished in subways and sewers I hear them trading secrets on immortality They’re building a universe in my walls
abandonded building boyman guards the entrance yo babe lets see your tracks drop your cash on the floor keep moving
old women calls me over toothless smile she grabs a rooster by the neck slit it’s throat blood spurts on the wall she tells me in Spanish I will live a long life but bear no children smears bloody hands on skirt turns away
Maria, Francesca, Antoinette huddle shorts to short for February basketball butts big hooters stiletto sharp hearts got what you want baby paid blowjob #8,634 not counting any more
fifty buck abortion bare room bare mattress queen for a day that’s what the doctor said low moans mi dios pardarme pardarme
goodbye Lower East Side
Houston Street Attorney Ridge Stanton Essex Alphabetland ciao baby
Legacy
afraid of living afraid of dying walking empty-handed into the void stripped naked no man no money no job just me and my illusionary body that carries some strange disease
can't say what it looks like speck of sand mac truck flash of light who knows
they were dancing in Dido and Aeneas Josiah Priest School for Girls England 1607 the girls were excited and nervous now they're dead no more excitement just a few printed words on a torn flyer pasted to a brick wall someone stuck in a history book
3 AM all the things to be afraid of open your veins c'mon let's go nothing seems important enough to live for except maybe you all of you how disappointing if I were gone you'd be pissed off all that spiritual shit and the bitch just offed herself had at least a few good years left in her
the Queen of Carthage was betrayed by her own kind what deeper hurt deep cut open-heart surgery no anesthetic pain so great had to be pleasure better than 3 AM numb nothing
through the parking lot nightgown bare feet mossy river's edge cold wind cold mind watching life pass dark swirls bright lights over the bridge chink chink chink
I remember driving around drinking beer with Michael how I wanted him to love me front seat sex 65 miles an hour I'll do anything love me love me love me is that so wrong?
I am on my knees in the garage talking to God can't feel a thing anymore mom
there was orphans too grandma on her way from the shtetle a young girl no birthday hiding in a hay cart dangerous men sharp pointy objects‘ can open you up split you down the middle dangerous men but you turn spit in their eyes call them pigs you have your pride you wait for your last minute to catch up to you then there is only laughter and clomp clomp clomp the big boots walk away
free again to sweat it out somewhere else Bronx NY factories on fire fingers sewing East LA canning sardines fishy smells in everything you touch boy sat on the beach watched his red ball go out to sea never spoke again your son ran out of words early never did say why ball never did come back
I stand on the edge with bits asphalt of embedding itself into my skin In a prayer to god or maybe just this parking lot I dream of suicide but it only seems right in the brightness of the day at night there’s hope that I will die a natural death
Back in the US, Napa, California 2018-2021
After He Left
I open a bottle of beer I had bought from home and a packet of pretzels from the vending machine
I watch a true crime story about 26 black boys killed in Atlanta by a benign looking man. It happened in the eighties I have always liked serial killer documentaries
The beer makes me fuzzy I pick up broken pieces of myself from the cheap hotel carpet put them in my bag go home
I’m fragile easily broken but feel little
I do not believe in God Love Truth
Horrified and amused at myself I walk gently up the metal step of the trailer
My dog is always happy to see me I feel the rawness between my legs try not to think I just want to be loved
Skylab
when the world tilts towards you and there is too much desperation in it’s eyes masquerading as love you know there is little you can do
so don’t have expectations just fly/ walk Empty-handed into the void
I smell the death of me in my mother who I love/hate
my heart pieces are kept separate so they do no harm for the time I’m here I try not to wreck things
extreme isolation a universal traveler going to incapacitated places low on the lake lots of leaves in your eye
when I swim it terrifies me to see I am still alive numbed disco soul floating
Living in Mexico
Mexico
I can hear a subtitled film from the room next door the music of some wayward mariachis add to the sound track firecrakers applaud the virgin children speak in outdoor voices the churchbells ring
I stare at the airshaft as the day turns to night
I don’t think of suicide anymore or worry about the dog dying
I only speak bad Spanish let my brokenness be the beautiful mess that is me
When My Prayers Go Unanswered
It’s late I hear sirens soft rain falling I walk from empty room to empty room looking for an answer Lucy licks my tears she looks concerned
The hound dog next door,, is locked in the garage he harmonizes his wails with mine his prison made of brick and morter mine ethereal
When I had a husband he would walk in the garden or look the other way when I went mental physically he could deal but when I started writing secret messages on the bottom of the mattress he cried.
I asked God or whoever to extinguish my soul but everything is still in order breath in out blood pumping
These demons are taking me for a ride
It is usually late at night when they come I keep the knives dull so when I cut it is never forever just a reminder
Lucy is grateful
Mexican Neighbor
The neighbors rang the bell they told me I was disturbing their dog with my wailing I fell to my knees hit my head on the wall till blood blended with tears they quietly closed the door
Island Life; St Thomas USVI 2010-2015
Christmas Eve 2010
74 degree trade winds about 10 miles per hour I was not resentful this morning when someone wished me a merry Christmas
the vice president is coming to the Island they paved the roads towed all the abandoned cars to the barge for removal redid the pallapas on the beach everything has a veneer of shiny new goodness we need to protect him from anything unpleasant
I like the smooth roads I like Christmas lights in palm trees I like warm water I sit on my porch no snow no sorrow
when something needs to be fixed I use duck tape everything seems to be working out
Trade Wind
It was not about anything in particular just all of it.
The fact that I might live made everything different sadder greyer
I had given in to TV meat sugar anger.
You (husband) so flawed so ideal me: so brilliant at fixing you till I stepped away saw the damage I had done.
I packed three suitcases a carryon took a plane then a boat to a remote island because I needed to go thousands of miles to a place where water is precious and everything you have is carried in on your back where you watch metal rust from the salt in the air and the ocean that surrounds everything.
I always thought if I got sick enough I would float away on the sea warm womb erasing who I was but I’m afraid of open water even though I swim everyday.
I was three when I was caught by rope and pulled down to ocean floor my mouth and nose filled with saltwater saved by a father who still cared still I think about the water in a romantic way nothing real.
Whenever I was ill which was always you (husband) would carry me to the soaking tub it was the only thing that could get me through the first nights of the IVs and you unconditional you whose only goal was to make me smile.
Me so untouchable after so much illness so much loss dead husbands dead friends the rapes I could not even feel bitter let alone love still your affection sustained me even if I could never understand it.
I was just waiting for the last moment to come you kept me company my diversion my lifeline till I didn’t need it anymore.
Resuscitated I walked away maybe at the lowest point of your life I didn’t know how to help except leave.
This morning the clouds are coming in from the north a squall threatens to emerge in all it’s fury.
I think of you the you I met ten years ago not the broken you filled with rage bitterness you
I question whether it was weakness or strength that made me go I was always called selfish so I get confused
Island Living
It's a funny place just to say the name elicits smiles dreams the postcard part not the horse left to die tangled in barbed wire part or the starving dogs tearing a young hen apart
I saved the horse with wire clippers I was too late for the hen
Each morning I wake up to the steady crash of waves crazy blue ocean you can see forever still I know it's not forever or as big as what I've seen that is god yeah, I am saying it nameless but personal fuck it I was a non-believer till I hit this rock
there's something about having a bat fall on your head in the middle of night you move slowly until you know it’s a bat otherwise it could be deadly
the other stuff is just that... like eating my dinner and then noticing the ants or how I squeeze my eyes shut after turning the light on in the middle of the night to let whatever freakish intruder scurry away first
I am not alone
I tell Carl no movie tonight it took 20 minutes because he's either deaf or drank too much everclear at least he kept most his clothes on
Peaches wants me to help her fix the shoe she carries around but never wears
I gave Sidney chips and water he passes out on a pile of cardboard boxes in the alley
I tell it to the dog he looks at me with tired eyes
I tried to paint instead sat in a folding chair watched the clouds roll by then the rain then the sun then the night then the silence
I want distraction I want someone to say something funny
I watched someone eat chocolate cake last Saturday he put his plate down I swiped at the icing I didn’t eat it just examined it then shook it off
I live in moments my near life experiences here at the end of the earth it’s all the same except no Starbucks
Lovers I Have Know Since My Divorce Man with ebony skin you dressed stylishly spoke with a fake accent anything to deny your heritage
you came to me with with daisies and tequila 10 am I used the small door to not let you in but you never stopped
one rainy morning with the sun still low I said I would fuck you just don’t say my name or think it means anything
you fell in love
even though I was dying I still had the energy to make you leave you called me cruel
I just knew what I didn’t want
The other two however insignificant have to be counted
Number 2 you told me everything felt so good I agreed you hesitated as we curled around each other lubricated by sweat serenaded by the broken fan just one thing you said please don’t tell anyone you know me
I stare at the ceiling my poisoned blood unravels everything
you justify it would kill your parents your children what about my job?
but your self-employed I say disentangling myself from the mess
I watched you for years with loathing till one day it turned to sorrow then nothing just nothing
Number 3 he was drunk he said I was beautiful then passed out
I wonder if there will ever be another will he tell me I am the prettiest girl in the whole wide world see my darkness as love
Poems from my Marriage 2000-2010
Future Husband I struggle with your words ignore the plainness the fact that you still talk about high school.
I want to catch your tongue mid sentence suck the meaning from it your hands planted firmly on the wheel make me squirm.
When you take hold of my hips there is little you can do wrong muscle under skin devour me even after twelve hours of roofing or whatever thing you do.
Your essence sparkly and ripe draws me in shameless in lust you lunge for my flesh still on the bone but just barely.
The Need To Die The need to die has passed
my words are from the mixed lot at the dollar store cheap but effective
I barely have a grasp on the existence of anyone else some call it selfish
it is more like a wall penetrable with effort
everything seems too fast I have to sit down by then it’s too late for thank you notes hope you get well congratulations
I was schooled in narcissism minored in sarcasm learned my life out loud on stage
every failing glaring underneath the specials usually cool sometimes warm
I always felt like I was dying from the time I was six and drank turpentine from the can
I was saved by dreams little girl it’s all right it’s all right
I believe not in God but magic and the children I killed
I was named after no one I stopped crying a long time ago
I became vegetarian after tasting ham I used to believe I had a twin someone who understood I existed
I have never had my tonsils out or bungee jumped or untie my shoes before I take them off
I wear black because it is simple I paint my walls orange
My birthday coincides with the death of Jesus and the smell of hyacinths sometimes
I live alone except for the husband on the couch with the weather channel chanting Gustav, Hannah waiting for something with an I
I get an occasional call from A telemarketer It’s okay It’s okay I tell her
I don’t forward e-mails only listen to books
I flew to Japan for a weekend first class Take Me Down Little Suzie the soundtrack to my trip
Dead flowers Basement rooms rewinding me and reminding me of where I came from
I was born in a small hospital at time when birth was mundane
It is 10.28 AM September 1, 2008 I don’t want to kill myself today lucky me.
Brain Leak
rashlikepainlikefeverlike can’t bear it
don’t love me too much let me crawl inside myself till this thing destroys or leaves don’t make me look like a baby cry baby
Rashlikepainlikefeverlike don’t hurt me shame I’m not frail mortality mercifully blessed
Don’t ask me don’t tell me about sorrow scratch or God
Chicken only one chicken came home last night. I walk the road calling for the missing chicken it was the chicken that liked me she always wanted me to pick her up
they say chickens are dumb maybe... but they fill me
try not to think raccoon, fox hawk maybe a car hope it was fast
I’m a spectator to my losses looking for love in box after box of Captain Crunch chocolate milk the eyes of my husband fast asleep
like a heart monitor he knows me every beat and breath he loves me I can say this for sure
he has sat through blizzards of bad times overdoses of fucked up days with every step I take the ghosts follow me
“Here chicken, chicken, here chicken” I can‘t lose another one I tuck my anguish into every cell in my body
my heart is tight as a fist I devour everything a corn thrasher in out until there is nothing more of me to contain the tidal wave the perfect storm of grief awakened with one missing chicken
at night I make a raft out of numbers days without sugar three meals a day nothing in between the amount I weigh years without booze/cocaine/heroin dead husbands dead friends the steps from my studio to the house in the dark the age of a son long dead the birthdays uncelebrated the chickens killed
morning is bright I walk on eggshells is today the day?
I prayed last night for God to take me to trade my life for the eminent death of a child someone’s beautiful baby someone’s unthinkable tragedy
in the morning I make pancakes no chicken yet go back to sleep
Chachacha
Chachacha don’t you know that I love you swollen feet chachacha I’m thinking of you chachacha don’t wake my husband or the shrink definitely not the doctor
Don’t tell secrets itchscratchitch don’t you know that I love you I sound all right all right I’m not those words I’m not those bumps you’re the night can’t move you any faster I’m definitely not me you’re definitely you
chachacha no emergency room can’t help me 4 AM I’m sprouting retaining swollen hurt hurts alone with you 4.05 AM chachacha kill the dogs chachacha don’t do that itch shame itchy hot red hot you (me looking at me) fear is a comin! bar the door pull the dresser over
don’t let it in
god what did you say?
you will never leave me?
my husband breathes 1-2-3-1-2-3 don’t wake him scalps on fire scratchscratch if I could find the gun I could find the truth
Confessions
At night I whisper all my fears to your drowsy back muscled and a sore from swinging a hammer
I only have a few years left I feel like my bones are bruised I’m so scared a woman with this same illness died this morning I meant to visit her but I couldn’t bring myself to do it do you know I had three abortions one forced one rape one mistake I wanted children I think about them when I lie next to you three small bodies draped in black with one soul forever cycling through
before you came I was waiting for the end nothing to betray my belief there was any future hurled into early enlightenment permenetly chained to the moment
my right arm goes numb tucked under you your stale breathe steady and slow on my cheek
If I live how will you feel when you’re thirty-five and I’m sixty? you’re so beautiful
In the time meant for sleeping I rub my cheek against the stubble that grows on your jaw the gun is in the drawer a constant reminder there’s an easy way out
I hate the way I look I see the disease now in my belly and face how can you love me like this I am so tired I found more bruises today
I lie silently till there is nothing more than crickets on a summer night the after the fourth of July sound of the crowd gone home the residue of my thoughts stowed safely away for another night I watch you open your eyes smile rested just another day
End of a Marriage
I still think about you
you who held my hand every Friday for almost ten years as they infused my body with poisons hoping to save me from my incurable self
you who cradled my trembling body lifting me into the tub hoping the warm water and oxicodine would make it tolerable
I suffered till my marrow softened and made plattlets that allowed me to live one more week
you made me laugh sat in the front row were a marvel to look at
you asked me once if I ever listened to anything you said I said no but I loved the sound of your voice
I always will
I love you I am sorry forgive me
EX
I called my ex husband tonight almost asked him back for the wrong reasons the sea has shown me no one can make it better I feel all desire leave me wet, salty, heavy girl
it is a different kind of sadness the realization nothing ignites you you're too damp
I think of the way you used to make me laugh how I loved to say “My Husband” you adored every inch of me pity was never present though sometimes it was all I wanted
You expected so much from me not personally but in a bigger way you were brave when I couldn’t remember my name funny when I crawled across the floor to lay on the cool tiles before I vomited when I went blind you sent me to pick out the bathroom tiles I never saw you cry maybe I never saw you
I was not unconditional when you fell apart and wouldn’t leave your room I didn’t know what to do 365 days later you still sat in your chair I left you there
I love you always will but not in a healthy way I love you because you filled me where I was empty I could do nothing for you lost in the wilderness bewildered
To my Dad 1929-2015
Happy Birthday Jesus! I've never celebrated a holiday. It takes training to do that, or children. I have neither.
Christmas Eve in the supermarket; I bought day old cakes, lox, and whole bean Verona coffee.
My future stood in front of me; round little Jewish lady, thick grey hair peeking out from watch cap.
Why do I always see myself that way; bundled up and alone. She makes her purchase shuffles towards the exit.
I’m on my way home from the hospital, been going everyday, well almost, to see my father.
It is the most time I’ve ever spent with him. Two days before Christmas they wheeled him away shaved, catheterized and IV’ed, before he went in he made me turn my back while he took out his teeth handed them to me in a paper bag.
Later that day, unconscious, plugged into machines, I stood by his bed, he was so still.
They let heart patients wake on their own he looked exposed.
I’d never seen my father vulnerable, least not physically, except one morning when I was six, he lay on the floor of the living room, in his underwear crying.
They say kidney stones are one of the most painful things to experience.
He had always been kind to me, if not always present. I forgive him for this.
Christmas morning feels like Yom Kipper, Day of Atonement, another holiday I’ve never celebrated.
I sleep for 14 hours, not an escape, just rest I do not believe I have ever just rested.