Sour Diesel

rain that does not cease

perhaps i should be grateful,  yet long for the desert and it’s expansiveness, to just stand in the sun like Joshua trees. arms up, all praying. we have much to be grateful for, i still rose this morning. others, many… did not.

have  you crossed the invisible line that some people call border? go to the places, trespass? it is said that special papers are required for entering and exiting certain points of entry, they lie. there are places where one cannot enter with paper and a photo and much more is required in exchange for even a glance.

here on turtle island i hear some make the arrangement for spring break. it will be nice yes? i try too to pull a softness out of the square of my jaw. is it possible? the arch of my brow to severe? i lean into a peach colored daffodil, i dress the house in cream lace and peonies. i am fraudulent but give me enough time and i’ll warm up. maybe whisper into the ear of someone, confess.

tell me love, how are you.. looked for you, saw you in dream

extending the passport

we sigh the collective sigh with all others who disappear from time to time. we are questioning. we are looking out of our passport. some hold us responsible. for.. for… for.. soothing them. but we are not the creator, just mere earth beings. and fail so completely at times.