journal august

the sky was a peach at sunset and a fire at dawn and we ate lemon ice and prayed that the city's electrical grid would hold up. the number of homeless had risen and not all could not be housed, and caring citizens were combining forces and giving away tents on the weekend. others were cold complaining to cops and assemblymen: get these sorry-ass derelicts off of my street!

rose quartz

you coulda been living in a car and who cared? you disappeared off the lips with a prayer. rose quartz the quality to express you. a pale of having been purified by trial. only accomplished in those the world gave away.

morning hustle

this morning they are hoping for some change standing outside the seven elevens the circle k's the am pm's, shifting and huddled and made it through the night. maybe a coffee and a biscuit if you can. a word or a sign or a forlorn face to get a couple quarters. sometimes a hard silence and barefoot says enough. a little kid who cares asks his mommy can we help that one over there? some small gratitude, hot liquid behind paper, warms the hands and face, expressions melt into a blank stare. worries momentarily at bay. eyes open to the day. find your hustle or your doomed. 

projection of poor memory

You taught me how to survive. I taught you how to thrive. The tables before were turned, and I experienced a deep despair like the world no longer could care...even someone who feels forgotten will be remembered by someone they may have overlooked. I wonder if the feeling of forgotten is a projection of poor memory? 

another loss -i

You let me stay one night in your room, many years ago,  i was in between places and spaces and a kick in the gut had landed me in Oakland with nowhere to go. Brown-outs were my life back then, and nobody can tell you what your psychosis is gonna look like or how it will feel, because they aren't buried behind your eyes. Electronic Dance Music was one thing we had in common that night, and we had what was left of my battered laptop to trade tracks that touched us...

k reading -- 'tumbleweeds'

Here is me reading the poem i wrote a while back

called Tumbleweeds

and you can find the words

by clicking on the word.


- K (aspiring to be a velveteen rabbit)