i was sitting in the dark again with oakland, the hot dirty night mother
the hot dirty trash-drunk shopping cart gas station mother
my crumbling pavement mother
i was sitting in the dark with oakland, my fragments glued with truth
not broken any more, but healed, healed by oakland
thank you my darling kiss the cheek oakland's oily cheek thank you.
oakland i am healed can you believe it?
i didn't foresee it myself, street of six desolate- times- motels, you are
my home street, my boulevard, thank you, oakland, for west macarthur boulevard.
now the light stays green so long, it seems,
the billboards blare their vapid candy,
i say, get the fuck off of my street, billboard, quit fuckin' up oakland!
and my city waited for me,
playing motown on the radio, patient mother oakland
waited for me to put on my party dress.
oakland i am cycling along your streets now
sore and adoring, my legs bent pipes, my dress hiked up,
pedaling by my can-collecting suitors
contemplating love, hiss and growl for love
snarl and prowl for love, but there is no hunger oakland
you have fed me and i am full, full of love.
simple weather love, heat wave love
beer in the park love, cats in the parlor love
love in my basket, i am the witch of north oakland
whirring by, seduced and satiated
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- The Weaker Sex Has a Qualm, Qualm, Qualm.
- I Do Not Thank You
- pseudohaiku #?
- then again
- Badly Done, Allison
- vera and deanie
- my prize
- hypothetical conversations with the cynic part IV
- hypothetical conversations with the cynic part III...
- what may be last, my cynic
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