Boy Charlotte

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Ongoing Malady from, 'Wrapped in Thunder - A Novel of Amnesia'

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July 29, 2013 at 1:52am
2 notes

a small winter came through the woods for just a moment i am reminded of broken limbs, scraped skin on the cement at the corner store, dundengess crab in the pot

this river is heavy and takes a human life each year

i can’t tell you how the sour rises up in the life to meet some- right here on the lips

like this

a poison, a kind of curse, i was born with it, came into the world with this grim heritage on my back

vagina, penis, scrotom, breasts. to tresspass. here it is only holy. could die right here in my arms. your pills and morphine pump prove it. tiny deaths, big deaths

where to stay away would be best

May 13, 2013 at 3:29am
3 notes


In these Redwoods

The wind can’t blow

Just kind of stops outside of camp- dumb

I moved away now and

Am uncareful

to not


And stay more with animals am an animal

I think things

About people and

Make judgments and don’t care if I do

I think things like

This politically correct thinking you do


You from saying what you are saying

A bore

To me really and I have become a razor

Lily taught me to not be too precious in my practice

As herbalist, writer or caregiver to the cancer husband who eats

Truckloads of sugar

I will let you die

If that’s what you choose

I simply ran out of time

And energy to

Tell you

Over and over and over again

To wake the fuck up

July 4, 2012 at 1:30pm
10 notes


late tonight some guy followed the singing
and made his way through the dead pine
had a handful of angel, gave me three said I could trade ‘em in for something
if I wanted. I kept them and they show the night medicine
the west medicine, a way to go when the road ends

got this bottle of Jameson the girls left- I’m emptying it out tonight

may look like I’m burning it down
with all those people who come around. But I’m not there
i’m far in that other place with you
you don’t mind my old pickup, or the sour that rises from my chest
on certain nights - i ruin things


heard you say three names last night. I won’t tell who you called out
saw what you worn across your chest

last summer
the winter from hell
devil places

masturbation and cigarettes
i toss some out for you. For Joe, for Lily for Acey for my whore legs

i’m goin home with the boy from carolina and feel dirty
i sink back into the dense smoke in countries where its still legal
i forget my own tongue
toss the family name into the fire pit

i’ll keep going
spotted Horse on Scissor Mountain
hashish and beer in Motel 6 
bus stop at  Snakeback Ridge

 i’ve always told you
 i know dirt
 it knows me

February 28, 2012 at 1:19am
4 notes

6X2 Rattle

I am sure
I was too drunk
To notice
How wonderful you were

I sat humming
Or drumming

In between the bell pattern and

Somebody skin me
And excuse me
While I vomit

My last five
Exits out of society

Give me grace
Forgive my absence
And confusion

For what is human
And what is it to love?

It is the hour
Of vertigo
And flickering light
That makes you question
Your eyesight

Cataract perhaps
Like the moon at times
Slowly dimming
Softening the world

Is a small mountain
Which below
Is a vast and endless root system
Of the Four Earth Gods

In prayer
You know to be One

Screaming child
The white snow
Bleeds it’s cold hand
Around the sumac suckers

North Wind commands
Us into next season

Put your head to the Ground

2 notes

Song During Worm Moon

Song During Worm Moon

We are eating meat raw
Close to the bone in everyplace
Where reservations, villages, ally ways
And barrios are desperate and

Grandmas set down their Nescafe
Pinching off the dead leaves in their dim
And congested rooms

They have ceased waiting for the letters to come
                                                                the phone to ring

Go ahead husband
Here is your soup

               cupful of seashells
               turned to sand

My back arched just for you
Swan neck illusionist

               golden throat hummingbird
               your pit viper

Drink this
Your holy water
You are the only king here

See the way
You search for my hips at night
Slipping your hands in between my thighs to warm them
                                                                                           they are cold

And not just from winter
You’re a mean bastard but that doesn’t move me
You know where comfort is

Stringent bite of the bitterroot escapes from my mouth
It’s what I do

“You’re too strong,” you say
But you really wouldn’t have it
Any other way

                "… nation is not conquered until
                The hearts of its women are on the ground. …

You fall asleep
Your knees, feet and past vagrancy’s

                Then it is done, no matter how brave it’s warriors,
                nor how strong their weapons.”

Heavy upon me
I heave you, over and off me
Easily as one of the children
While singing a protection song

You do not stir
This house smells like onions, bread
And liver
You sleep easy that way

2 notes

Land Like Feather

Redwood lady
My veil above me lady
Hush and hush

Our whispering lady

All around me is Thunder
Coyote I love you
I see you looking away
I do not see you
This is the way


Manzanita, Madrone
Capture fire in your branches
Sweep the trail
Clean over the Moon

Stone I am beneath you

3 notes

Fishturn Love Letter

I have died before
I am sure of it
Simply expired like the date on a milk carton
Or perhaps on a marriage certificate
It’s like that sometimes
A man or woman’s invisible number is up
Their loved one(s) cease to see them
And simply walk out the door. Easy.
Like magic my time was up. I was gone
There is proof of this-
I would walk down ally ways or dirt roads
In my ghost state to reach a tiny sign that read
“Papayas For Sale-Wednesday Only”
Nobody saw me

I was sure I was an oddity
Who cared for such things anymore? The dead?
No one came to shop that day, bad luck day.
I would buy all eight of them
From the small Oakland, Dakar, Brooklyn,
Paris, Scarborough…wherever
Street vendor stand
Now I don’t give a damn about expiration dates
And understand the importance
Of fermentation

It is February
The season of the forced smiles
Painted lips, tiny handbags and “getting in shape”
People contemplate suicide. The scent of rain
Leather and car upholstery mixed with booze, ganja
And the common perfume drill the nights in further
Regrets crawl out of the black mold

People make promises in February, it is strange
Don’t believe them

11 notes

Deeply Mary

chase her through the dead pine
draped in her robe of nettle- pine pitch
she pulls the ceanothus from deep below

“those hips are too beautiful for these back woods” say the boys

they want to unbraid her, breed her

ceanothus bleeds blood red
marks this ally
hands like shovels she can coax it’s medicine to the surface

“mary, mary” the boys call to the five winds
they want to mount her from behind
give it her
in ways forbidden
bury it in her
they want to break all the taboos

she wears the war paint to greet
the skinwalkers who lose interest when they meet her
belly to the loam, feral
their eyes leave holes in hollow logs but do not touch her
disappearing quietly back to the shadow places

coyote is laughing at them
somehow he too loves her so much

her red lips are hard to handle
allied to the medicine of the ceanothus
she is too fierce to be woman

perhaps they can bypass her contrary nature
just skim over the little bit of thunder
and reach into her bundle


3 notes



in the phoenix ward     i

am locked up like an animal
they want to observe me
to deconstruct the kaleidoscope
see me open my key box

they say i speak with the shadows
i down play it for them

here in chump town u.s.a.
they are too soft
fragile in every way you can imagine
they hurt easily and become frightened at once

you are here again in my peripheral
in my everywhere
the flood tide
on the open road
you ride the tule fog
and are fearless
and come to rest
behind my two eyes
looking out

you are so beautiful
my Familiar

2 notes

Void of Compass

Stained ink on worn leather

Slide down the curvature of symbol

You know how I scribble on anything here, there


My scrawl

A sip

Chug of your dark brew

Inhale of the deep forget         you are my opium


Holler     sometimes screaming

And the angels hear you


Whisper and they still do

Upon the Ground of Gabriel


                                            we float

                                            he will not let us fall


These are the secret words         you read

Nobody knows you keep them


                                        Come here


Come quickly if you can

It rides like citrus bound to rawhide a scent that may fade

Before you taste it

Pull pulling you

Come home



            dark viscera of someplace

                                    fecund soil

                                    be the river



This River twists

Contorts and confuses the city

You disappeared into the deep crevices of the Dead Pine

Then further, you retreated, coming to rest within the Cedars

I too sink back into the granite within the sea caves at negative tide

This is exile self chosen

From here I speak to you, tell you everything


Come when you can no longer speak
Come when the glands of spirit suffer from malnutrition


I too have hungered

Have fed on the cicada shells

On the letter that never arrived

A mouthful of tule fog

On the perfect nothing

Expired visa


The lost rhythm

Where the Salsa is not fun

Broken swan whistle     hollow

                                     Where not even echoes return


Tell me my Familiar

You know

How I have risen from the Red Delta

From the filth in the rivers, from the undeniable

Echo of the tight alleyways, where I leaned against cement

Unstable many times


too much


I keep laughter in my pocket

And now         your presence this side of the hour has me unhinged


You unbraid me

How can I even lean or buckle

Release the softness you remember so well


In all this upheaval?

I don’t dare crumble now


This is vertigo

And if you look

Very closely you will see me- head tilted         listening

Looking very closely at the visible invisible beings         shadow         dream


We are also

What we have lost

As we stumble into grace

5 notes

Where She Wears Her Clothes Inside out

Scarlet Star

Heyoka His Medicine

She is wearing

A headdress of matchsticks

Robe of dog skins

Her small feet and are toughened to the bad bones

As she walks across the backs of men with her

Black lonesome thoughts

On roads too tough to hoe

She is counting small bills in the shade

Because there is still a small pride

Washing her hands thoroughly in the dirt

She counts her money and will hold her head up

And no one will no she came from trash

Because she keeps her nails clean

White of eyes clear

        west wind


        blooms in the night

        unlucky then lucky

There are swallows in the sky here

She is unbraiding her hair, which drags in the gully

And wherever she passes the wood will not catch

February 27, 2012 at 8:50pm
3 notes

Thunder Stone

I am done for
Seeing this beauty you are

Heard your lullaby
In a pebble

And caught your wild eyes

In the autumn maple
Upon the loam

Could I ever lean
Or buckle

Except to sink into the lichen
And feel you

Where have you been
All this time
It’s late
Smoke rises


February 21, 2012 at 3:20pm
3 notes

Mama Iris

I have never been pretty
Something you would want
To look at for long

In market places, trading posts and bazaars
I have made old men cough, children squint
And their aunties made them wear
Their clothes inside out and backwards
After I touched their eggs and cork bottles

I got sick once and they called
For the blind healer

They will remember none of this
Only my harsh tongue
And how I wouldn’t love them
And think thoughts they think correct

They lower their voices
And give me drugs
Not close enough to opium
To make me forget
To extinguish me

I laugh for a long time
They come undone

As I drift off they are still
Trying to book passage
Into the bruised and cracked mind
They want to chart this
Become geologists of madness

I laugh the grapes from the vine
I laugh
And sound like cigarettes and whiskey
I am hoarse
I dream of horses

Riding fast
Fast, not looking behind me
I can see them with the eye
On the back of my head

February 19, 2012 at 12:44am
7 notes

Robe of Fern, Chapter of Disappearing

i once was somebodies pretty

wore neroi and rose absolute. season of pearls and cashmere, cinnamon in the brandy

crumbling under his touch, fingers between my legs I quivered

                                                                      wanted more

sweeter than honey spun baklava

i believed

the sun went down in october

by late winter i was a heathen

the winds howled, sounded like war

i could relate

now I walk the streets of china town

and try to kick the mean reds

the ocean pulls back and it is too far to wade in the water

i sit on granite and line up bullwhip, circular stones, waterlogged feather for a flag

                                                                                                       my home

i forget my tongues, tossing the family name into the fire pit-moving on

forked lightening

there is sacrifice in the ferns

where lacking wings i crawl

he wanted to meet the whore in me then make her disappear me disappear

                                                                                           good bye

til I am at the kitchen table looking at grocery ads

no wonder i will leave you



December 9, 2011 at 10:23pm
11 notes

Where the Breeds Go

where she thought it would be different

this place is mud and boy cum. i arch my back

and show a kind of way

in in the end it’s a going away song. i shrug it off try to care

waters lilies in the fountain on rue royale

the cutlass buried in the bush

beer tabs into a chain   i tried to crawl into the fold of a dry leaf, tried to disappear, failed

swaying on the porch i swing to my own song, in time with the clank of the old screen door

i have traced the grains in the wood. the porch is old

i move with this pack of dogs and hide the pills from him