to begin

trying to unravel

what was mine

what was theirs

these adults supposed

to raise shelter care

once a week for an hour

trying to let go

be there in the chair

feeling the emotions

if I dared

to walk out back into

my daily grind

that paid for that time

putting down a line

to remember later

when I was alone

the work that did

sometimes

did not happen

recognising now

the courage I’d had

to begin a process

these people had taught me

was not something

people like us did

which is true

after those years

once a week for an hour

I no longer was one of them

doing

seemed to be the way

of things

for the women I met

they wanted doing

happy to go along

with whatever doing

I felt doing

my effort was enough

& only a few

seemed able to talk

about whatever

their needs were

apparently

I was telepathic

a diviner

who could surmise

create their surprise

without their words

needing use

to later find

I was a lousy lover

there was a half mile

these pulls

trials

I live through

growing up where

I come from

there was a half mile

of workshops

either side of the road

raw metals going in

on one end

completed trucks

coming out

at the far end

walking through

listening to the noise

seeing sparks fly

heat rolling thru’ doors

men in dirty overalls

faces black with grime

dirty rags washing hands

looking out at me

this snot nosed kid

wondering on the magic

created in there

& now all of this is gone

most of those men moved on

to death to unemployment

all that magic

lost to china

& time

corporate

wants to know

if we

are on the same

page

& I say

sure

tho’ I don’t know

if

it’s the same

hymn sheet

we’re singing from

eh?

the things

you write about

not pulling your punches

eh? she says

& I drop in

the easy lie

nope I hope

to put down

everything & anything

that matters to me

& that is not

an easy lie

the things I hide

the weight I carry

create

by not speaking of

the things

hurt & created me

that I don’t talk of

now or

any other day

understanding

from experience

those things

will & would

be used against me

on another day

or gossiped about

to better understand me

but never in a good way

eh?

very occasionally

I ask her to read

very occasionally

just to check if

I have the tone

right or wrong

if what I’ve put down

might make sense

to a n other

& she goes

ooh I know

who this is about!

or

is this about me?

because that

is how she is

does this reflect on me

or is he settling scores?

as if that’s all that I do

some esprit d’escalier

trying to leve

I ask her to read

very occasionally

just to check if

I have the tone

right or wrong

if what I’ve put down

might make sense

to a n other

& she goes

ooh I know

who this is about!

or

is this about me?

because that

is how she is

does this reflect on me

or is he settling scores?

as if that’s all that I do

some esprit d’escalier

trying to level issues

after the fact

what she doesn’t know

is the ones about her

she will never get to see

l issues

after the fact

what she doesn’t know

is the ones about her

she will never get to see

we fight

our wars

never make the headlines

tho’ they may gather dust

in an office

where statistics

are gathered together

we fight

every day & every night

to keep going

keeping on the keeping on

because after all

that is the point

the struggle is all that matters

to be

to do

who we are

the what of what we are

in the face of a never ending

battle line of pain

plastic parrots

wandering the Mojave

wanting to find turquoise

trying to kid ourselves we were doing this

for the air the exercise

but what we really wanted was the turquoise

& I came across a sliver

which I still wear in my ear

later at the coliseum swap meet

an Indian silver & turquoise ring

& the girl got bought a ring too

all this bounty we showed off

to our friends & relys’ to ooh & aaah over

then came Christmas

we know you like turquoise

handed over to the girl

in a very nice gift box a pair of plastic parrots

maybe an inch long each

turquoise of course

& this is how you know

no matter how much you explain

people will always miss the point

I am brujo!

flying thru’ the air

cracking my sticks together

I am brujo!

flying because I must

having left my shoes

in the house of the woman

the woman who knew

knew too many things

that I was falling in love

with her but now I am brujo

flying thru’ the air

cracking my sticks together

to open space & time

flying under electricity wires

feeling their heat & danger

over families on horses

thru’ the high trees

small leaved oaks

I am brujo!

& then I am awake

middle of a sand dust field

early morning spain

somewhere near Valencia

priding

I never knew

as she always dressed well

hair done nails done

eyelashes done

always doing her best to look done

immaculate

& the air she carried with her

hints of a once model career

lofty

above the nose

the smell of the side streets

that she knew for sure I came from

& of money

enough for her good life

assured of course

when she died

we found

she lived in a one room dive

filled with the clutter

of her long years alone

all front no back no sides

cooking on a hot plate& an old coffee maker

living on government money

priding

one day at a time