oakland by bicycle

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

in the sea / i put the weight on you

I spent a night and a day in the sea,
Borne among the waves.
 It broke loose a gasp of hope from my chest
And the darkness held fast to the heat of the day.
I returned to shore a lighter thing,
Loving of my lot.
Plaqued with salt and free to sing
Of all that I’ve given and got.
Plaqued with salt and stuck with sand
I put the weight on you. 
I felt my fragments readhere
And I was known and new,
As new as some black waterfowl gone swimming in the slough.
Now the train dips and rolls me northward
Toward what I cannot foresee.
It was not, until it was,
And yes it’s quite all right with me.
Beneath the water all was well,
The tide it tipped and bucked and swelled.
Papa rode the breaking wave with me not far behind.
But in the night when only I
Was mad enough to strip and dive,
You watched me from the shore,
Held me ‘til I was warm,
And held me until finally I knew.
It’s all right to weary,
To give up resistance,
To do what we are meant to do.
To lean into your arms
No longer harrowed by harm
And to put the weight on you.

seeking!

Single twenty-two year old female enjoys: Watching 'gossip girl' on internet thieved from 'the bay bridge inn', long chats with her psychiatrist, crashing cars, her favorite cafe, debussy on vinyl, good bourbon, and masochistic pursuits. (!)

Seeking: male of above-average intelligence. a deeply-seeded penchant for self-loathing is a definite plus! should enjoy hating oneself, sanctimonious judgments, playing it cool, and a self-perpetuated state of 'being all-alone in the world'.

For: A psychological dalliance of pathetic yet nuclear proportions!!

The Weaker Sex Has a Qualm, Qualm, Qualm.

The weaker sex has a qualm, qualm, qualm.
The weaker sex has a qualm.
It disputes its classification.

The weaker sex would like
Nothing more than a day,
One sweet, one Iron-Tinged day,
One day during which to
Stab the cursed hand that reached for them.

The weaker sex will hold you
To their breast.
The weaker sex will love you
With your flaws.

The weaker sex will say yes
Should you decide you want them,
If they want you in return.

The weaker sex will seethe and burn,
The weaker sex will be silent
And the weaker sex will speak.

The weaker sex has a qualm.
The weaker sex has a question.
The weaker sex disputes its classification.

The weaker sex bore you.
The weaker sex raised you.
All you have which was given
The weaker sex gave you.

And the weaker sex may cry.
At times we may keen.
Yet deny the sense
Of the weaker sex
And the weaker sex will leave.

I Do Not Thank You

I cannot breathe, it was not a good idea.
Silk bound breasts. Blurring vision.
My body does not thank me, my mind
Does not thank me my straining heart
Does not thank me my shaking legs
Do not thank me, I do not
Thank you.

I do not Thank You. For pulling me
Into your arms, for biting my pleading
Limbs, for baring my laboring chest
I do not Thank You.

I sweat, I tremble, I Do Not Thank You.
For dealing with what you've wrought,
Should I then thank you? For
What you were and then were not
Should I then thank you?

I know that I was your accomplice.
In every deed and each kiss.
I do not deny it.
And I Do Not Thank You.

pseudohaiku #?

when people walk by
past the parlor window
i wish they were you

then again

The boardinghouse burned down
Must have smoldered in the night
I regret that I wasn’t present
To experience the light

I’m ready to give to you a handful of ashes.

I’m sick now and unsurprised
In my bed I flail and writhe
Seethe with fever and I crave
Your dystopian sound

Its bitter grain, I’m nowhere-bound.

There is a day for which I wish to cry
And I may remember, or try to deny
It may have been a day spent
Kicking water from the dock

Then again it may have not.

And there are things I can’t forget
Trapped by the fence, alone on the swing-set
It must have been a day spent
Fifteen years ago

Or the night it made me shake beneath the blanket that you lent.

I am sinking just like you, my cynic.
I can hear your looming insect drone.
A woman would paint you with ashes
And still we are alone

The sense, I just can’t find it. Despite how much I’ve grown.

Limp on, your crippled shuffle and drag on, my blurring steps.