in this place of history-holding

how the bobolink
tiny puffed-up bird
from leafless bush to leafless bush
as we snowshoe rhythm our way
down the slide trail
last time we were here
you used the words rising into
in the sun at rio grande edge
this time the half-froze rapids
still roll while after your
body-fever broke
coveralls unzipped
toes froze
rattle of grape tic tacs
nestled in cool-ant
door handle

pretty bird, pretty biiii-iiird
why are you so sad liana
sing-hums on river rock perch

tomato soup prepared on
hot plate and
grilled cheese plus
potato chips
we dine before the
game-playing guests arrive

while soup heats vinnie
whisks it in the nature of the adverb
which happens to be sluttily
which means we
table-perched in this
place of history-holding
are laughing and laughing

one day i say to myself
i will cook here taking in
the texture of the
mabel dodge luhan house kitchen
swept up in the swirl 90 year old
late night hangout conversations



homecoming to
brooke twerkticing
to the bring it back
pandora station


for bringing the water

down the spiral staircase
finally moving by pretty lights
spilling over into kitchen

amongst popsicles for
throat soreness
plus bacon for breakfast sandwhiches
brooke’s mom brings peeps
a surefire immune boost
sickness-fighting treatment

too many people with too many names
on too many pieces of land and water
liana says while she and brooke explain
the san cristobal land grant

the most we’ve had in twenty years
said about this record amount of
norrteño new mexican snow
thank you she says
for bringing the water
with light in her hazeled eyes


rustle of hot pink tissue paper
of over-bed hanging (leftover new years) piñata
as pillows and blankets
are lifted/fluffed/rearranged

brooke, liana and i
each with carrots in our hands
approaching horse behind fence
on hammer road

smell of wood in
brooke’s dad’s workshop
(workplace of a doormaker)
where brooke checks the
top-bar beehive pieces
drying – there’s a name for
when they split/crack in the process

like one of those japanese
street fashion girls
(wearing everything)
jessie rae and brooke agree about
my bird outline stretchy dress
on loan paired with 3quarter sleeve
ringer tee (cobra print) and
colored dot tights
fishnets on top

trying to be an adult i tell vince
after asking liana how to
sip that margarita

we spin in snow under
gold cone of light in parking lot
edward-scissorhands style
thick flakes slow-mo-ing
down our hands outstretched
it never snows like this here

how we stupid sing along
to taylor swift’s
blank space
while turning off

highway 68 to
state road 240 to
hammer lane


descending stairs into
osha root steam rising
up to greet
medicinal scent
grounded healing

serenading us through

it’ll cut right through you,
the wind

gregg and  i
(he in the tomato-print chef pants and hat)
concur on the merits of
dansko shoes for kitchenwear
and the necessity of things
like weiner jokes in a place
like a cafe/restaurant kitchen

karma police playing in
cafe i say i’ll always be
perplexed by you forever
into infinity

he saw me doing some burpees
the other day and i
made a good impression

the queen herself
man at the coffee spot
answers his phone

this weightlessness i say
of the hot srping water
my limbs afloat hovering
over hers

my age and size the woman says
when i say i’d love to let you
borrow it speaking of the
sequin sparkly sweater
she just complemented me on


tracy chapman’s fast car
and bette midler’s wind beneath my wings
serenading us through
norteño snow squall in
our windshield-wiperless
state of vehicularness
while jana, liana and i
pink cheeked from steam and wawter
sing along

that’s because i have a perfectly-shaped
solar plexus she says when i point
to the mug of hot tea balanced
on her supine bed-reclined body

change and the river metaphor

it will tear you apart michael says
recounting change and the river metaphor
(cling to the banks and it will shred you,
tumble with the current and you will find your way)

that all our lives he says
as he and nick and i sip
the wellness tea
exist just so that we may
get to know creator (or, fill in your word
of choice here) better


sand-clumped boots
i snip sage along the old morada’s
stages of the cross and
offer water to
sacred mountain
whose dark peak pierces
low-lying cloud


you have a fern on your computer
woman observes/exclaims at the library
it helps to balance it all out i say
(thinking, now this – this is the taos i know)
i don’t know how you do it she says
even a half hour wears me out

you are seeping in i say
while snow sifts down
as seen through the brooke-nook
balcony window
to places i haven’t carried you/
felt you before
you know about my nightmares
i say/ask describing the variations:
driving and i can’t reach the gas/break
driving and, hard as i can, can’t open my eyes
or the dashboard is so high i can’t see
the road before me
driving as best i can while sitting in the back seat
or passenger seat
driving and i can’t reach the wheel or move my hands
driving but i can’t see around/about me

cocooning i say
about the softness i seek
after all the showing up

welcome to my brain i say/sing
when i say something about
how the work is not
about getting someone to hold the space for me
but just trusting that they are / that they are there

the smallest offering
to fever-hot tears
that appear in response to the collection of metaphors
that edward scissorhands is

i feel so apologetic i tell brooke
for bringing the plague into your house
while we three sip the sick potion
(juiced ginger, lemon, cayenne)
in her kitchen


and the untwisting

wouldn’t mine the hanging
it’s the lying in the grave so long
oh boy i been
all around this world
i sing voice reverberating through
shower steam

noticing a theme here she says
of james’s mountain mix

trees wearing sweaters
makes me uncomfortable
corinne reports from
iowa city


this is one of my favorites i say
facing liana in stretchy bird profile print dress
backwards in kitchen chair

wrapping myself in the
borrowed jacket (offwhite with grayblue)
infused with yesterday’s healing
po-sum-on – like mentholy scent

occasionally i remember
to look up
from small bits of snow-swirl
to take in the clumps
of juniper climbing up foothill-side
blackgreen against whitegray sky
break you down vince says
about grad school so you can
build yourself up again
i appreciate your hanky vince says
i know a lot of women who think
it’s disgusting

palm to forehead she says
she’s so cold i say she’s
burning up

haze halo surrounding moon
and porch light and
street lamp and
any other glowing thing out there
in this snow-coated night

10something pm the sound
twirling down the spiral staircase:
ricola bag rustle and the
untwisting of a wrapped lozenge

panic and poundcake

blubbering poundcake she
calls herself coverall-wrapped and
fever rising hands resting on
the back of the chair
woolsocked feet on kitchen concrete

i offer
heart medicine in the form of
drips from the brownbottle dropper
of cimayo grandmother springwater


how she warmsmile openheart
greets the man
shoveling snow at school
despite the panic and
poundcake status

harvesting kale, chard, collards
in geodesic greenhouse
smell and hush of soil a
familiar home
clandestinely crunching
on a chocolate chipped granola bar
in the public library’s
artbooks back room
in between secret swiggings
of contraband water


golden moments of polyamory
i describe the
deep magic feeling and sortof disbelief
of when it all works out
50 shades of disapoointment we
lean in and laugh at
perhaps inappropriate moments
she bundled in coveralls me
crosslegged in the
sisterhood of floral traveling pants
regular steel and tool steel
she says are different. tool steel
has more iron – it’s stronger


tossing cheez-its into
the drivers side while
swilling sips of
we back and forth laugh
while the wind tosses us
along the freeway
tumbleweed trapped

in the dividers along
highway 84
while we drive into the storm
that appears later
as a line of white cloud
to the north

small bottle
of rose petal elixer
tucked into backpack front pocket
because macon said
it’s good for hearts

li lah she calls
the sacred spirit of


spine draped along
cork block unzippering
chest allowing access
to an open heart

it’s part armor i tell liz
the yoga teacher behind the desk
and part shine
regarding the sequin-splattered

i don’t know if this
is appropriate or not
pointing with a fork tines at liana
in the warm light
of the pizza place glow
but this
is my favorite

body of water

reading from the
card-sign relationship book
she twinkles in response
to everything about the 2 of clubs
that resonates
including but not limited to:fear of death and
fear of alone-ness


from the water world:

Palestinians cross a flooded street in the Bedouin village of al-Moghraka, central Gaza Strip.  – voice of america, day in photos


gather a slow momentum

piranha at the kitchen table
chomping jalapeno potato chips and
and ramen while
singscreaming one of many rent songs


all you have to do is
point your toes in girl with short dyed yellow gold hair
whose name i can’t remember says
and you’ll be skating backwards
then you can start
lifting up one skate at a time

that wheel squeak you get with a t-stop
she says you also want to make with your plow stop


while the non-newbies
speed around the track
in a tight pack
screeching and dropping into
drills at the sound of the whistle
i gather a slow momentum
practicing the:
knee drop
t stop
snow plow
backwards skate and stop
and the low-to-the-ground crouching status

how we snack
rio grande-side
(banana chips, peanut butter,
apple, snack bar)
after several hours of lostness
basking in canadian geese water antics
of foundness


dinnercooking, janesaw and i
discuss farming, kink, cut flowers and poly
while the pecans toast
the quinoa simmers
the asparagus roasts
and the mushrooms and onion saute
their scent through the house


unnamed phenomena: moving through
so many different places
so frequently that
i no longer know
which city i am in
(for instance, being convinced
for some reason by the environment and light
of the dessert place
that i am in vancouver bc
when really, we are
somehwere in albuquerque)
and the sortof unphasedness
of this dislocationatory sense_______
something-star cafe
heart stickers on our faces
a young man several tables over
offering us cookies while
a black-haired woman
hums along
earphones in


the rustle of wind in a
plastic bag snagged in leafless tree
on coal and elm as we
pedal past under
goldening sun
dipping the city of albuequerque
(sidewalk, buildings, clouds, tree skeletons)
in gold
in the final of
twenty seven miles


sacred she says

open hearted and so sweet (but not stupid) debbie says
with poetxts in her hand
both of us agreeing about the ache
in the line which world did we fillet
this time

i have been trying for so long
to do that i say about lighting
a candle (kate) while we dirt-road wind
our way towards cimayo mountain
and grandmother spring


how we crouch to the ground
(palm on sandy surface)
when the earth is called out
(in the earth/sky addition
to the four directions)


i just want to burrow she says
describing her humaninal situation
and the traversing of the river of grief

tierra sagrada reads the text
on the overpass on the way to
santa fe what does sagrada mean
i ask sacred she says


this is one of the original boarding schools
she says about the building to our left
as we roll into taos


girl power soundtrack selections:
jessie j – price tag
k’s choice – not an addict
mary lambert – body love


wal-mart excursion in three parts:
1. accidentally aggressive hip-check in
the traumatic-just-because-it’s-wal-mart
wal-mart aisle walking past women’s wear
on a shrinky dink quest
2. grape flavored tic tacs
3. under a sliver-cradle moon
(also referred to as a lesbian’s fingernail)
and venus shining to its south
perfume genius album
in the deep dark of new mexico night
while we roll south and west
towards the light of
when i say the music is so sad
maybe i mean so much about so many things
is so sad and there are moments like this
when it crests and settles until it
gathers and crests again


do you wanna ride my mercedes boy
sarah jane, liana and i sing
in the mercedes that is slow to accelerate
as we pull away from the co-op

from the water world:

Icicles hang off a strawberry plant in Plant City, Florida. Temperatures overnight in the fields dipped into the low 30’s (F). Farmers spray water on their crops to protect the plants from being damaged by a freeze.
– voice of america, day in photos

along the curve of learning

in the dream: a string
of previous lovers

looks different i say
motioning south
to debbie and liz’s badlands
whose shapes have been
winter will do that liana says
even the time of day will do that i reply
from the windows
to the walls we sing and
i demonstrate shannon and i’s
inanimate object dance moves of
ridiculousity extraordinnaire


chocoloate off dashboard sunmelt
mouthmess while i shake water bottle ice
that formed overnight

i like watching us marathoning
along the curve of learning


almost noon chilaquiles
clink of fork against bowl in
badlands desert sun sideyard
plus the buzz of a pulsing bee
melissa telling us about the places
the ground has moved beneath us
while we navigate ridges and arroyos
in a space so clearly shaped by
water and weather