little volcanoes of celebration

1. in the dream
i missed my plane
unaware
that 6:30
meant departure time
and when i try to find the phone number of
the ticket sales company
i find nothing
for two hours
text disappearing from page
and then
once i do find some digits
the keypad on my phone
blurring and worn off

2. in the dream
we missed the shuttle bus
to the chicago school art fieldtrip

3. in the dream
i sucked in thick smoke
through a glass tube
stolen from a tincture bottle

4. back seat
window cranked down
face out like a dog
seeking escape from front vent full
blast face-searing heat

5. cool air on cheeks
eyes turned up
taking in palm trees
that whoosh past
against blue sky
i think this city treats me best
when it thinks i am a tourist

6. you read my horoscope aloud
transmitted via satellite
it is about michelangelo
painting the sistine chapel ceiling
when his real love was sculpture
a twist in history as we thought we knew it
a comment on process
a cheer of encouragement
upon entering the lifesuck
of the institution

7. cleaners sign
missing its ‘e’
red plastic letters fastened to
offwhite stucco wall

8. shopping cart convention
at university and vermont
black metal and
wheel-locked
gathered around a lamppost

9. bouquet of silver and gold balloons
tied down
heliumfilled
bopping back and forth
in pre-sunset wind

10. university and richmond
person coughing on  bus stop bench
lung rattley
leans over to puke
up the same orange color as their
back pack

11. out the door at twelve fifty something
we get half a block down before we hear it
little volcanoes of celebration
erupting
from house to house
first a few houses to the west
horns
then fireworks in the east
plus plastic/metallic cardboard party horns
and hap-py new year!!! shouts and bellows
somewhere between us
and the park
stars
blinking back
from crisp sky
later
gunshots
into same sky
some southeast
some north
partysounds
providing maps
locating humanity
strung across neighborhoods
there are people in those houses
the map says
and if nothing else
you have this moment in common
with all of them

something cinematic
in moving
from microworld
[dining room
wine flutes
freebox try-ons
carrot butter and multi-seed baguette]
to macro-world
[echos from other micro worlds
like streetlights switching on
just as dusk gives itself over to night
a sense
of looking down
and for a slice of a moment
seeing that things are good]

12. as if we have secrets
like seedlings
planted inside our ribcages
it is enough
for us
to throw ourselves at the eucaplyptus trees
of balboa park
as if
the trunks are magnetized
and we are made of steel
at which moment, it is only appropriate to yell up
from roughsmooth bark to high hanging leaves
happy new years, tree!

13. and then
at upas and pershing
xmas light installation
which later research informs me costs $2000 a season
in electrical bills
here
we sidewalk dance to
a techno new years
magic
in the form of electricty
laughter
and high kicks

14. turning back towards home
we begin
wishing everything
a happy new years:
happy new year lamp post!
happy new year sidewalk cracks!
happy new year shrub hedge!
happy new year stars and stars we can’t see!
happy new year stop sign!
happy new year electrical box!
happy new year cold air on my cheeks!

happy new year helicopter lights!
happy new year palm tree almost as tall as i am!
happy new year canyon coyote!
happy new year cacti!

happy new year light and shadow!
happy new year texas street roost!
happy new year table and chairs!
happy new year staircase!
and once home
pinkcheeked and hugwrapped:
happy new year friend!
[all this for someone who believes
in the witchy new years
of samhain
at the end of october
as the real new year]

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