the great vertical transporting of leafy things

1. dreams:
fleet of bikes
painted with ladies
for co-counseling event
shoulders heave above ribcage
short forced bursts
crying so hard
tear-wet eyes
when i wake

2. pre-autumn spring clean
beginning with staircase
the unexpected:
theory’s hair collecting under broom
pink candles
dust on dried flowers
half-rotted stems
murky water in antique medicine bottles
dating back
to you

3. hanging thin tshirts
work jeans
squares of hankies
on line
attempting to identify the discrepancy of
overheated from undersleep
intensity of almost september sun

4. half hour nap
10 sleeping minutes

5. the great vertical transporting
of leafy things
barely clearing swooped black arc
of electrical wire
in blue pick up bed
ne fremont and 16th

6. looking into other people’s lives
with longing:
at erica and deborah’s
erica brings home neighborhood figs
slices them in half
spreads goat cheese across pinkred blush
offers them
on purple plate
the care.
phone voice
tells me how she told her partner
if you ever need me to stop traveling
and come home to you
i’ll come home.

country houses warmed with light
in the city
neighbors talk
across front porches.

7. lamplit academy of literary arts
great vision
collective effort
bringing us together
reminder of what effort and possibility feel like
dream actualizing
best contradiction to what my paid work tells me

8. british columbia
on fire

9. new depth to the
part longing
part ache
how it extends beyond me
drilling deep into earth
roots seeking water

10. renaissance clouds
photos would do more justice than words
but still not justice enough
full billows
purple bodied
gold lined

11. hawk vs. crow
diving through obstacle course of
neighbor’s swingset
jesse’s backyard
where the view of the moon is good

12. what is the word
for how place/geography holds history
for the wonder of the body
returning to those places
for how i find myself
same constellation of humans
my body perched with notebook
where yours once did

13. how tonight
clyde and i move
through 11pm abandoned streets

one might say alchemy

1. dreams:
and other outdoor toys
in a yard which is more like a field
kristi, eden, dyanne
gift exchange
mason jars with wooden forkspoons
some with water
can’t remember whose name i pulled
maybe corinne
maybe audrey
empty rooms for yoga
house in transition

2. recollection
of eileen myles essay on robert smithson
reconfiguring my brain
before sending me off to sleep

3. places the disease enters

4. something about desecration
a full body experience
filtering through
creases and folds of brain
into meat of heart.
a fury.

5. composing manifestoes
about why words
about why language
about why stories
a spark
or steady series of flames

6. talking french social theory
in the dishpit
i am in love
with the paradox
of this moment

7. the conference:
garden pesto
rice pasta
sauteed farmshare summer squash
perched on couch
exchanging family dinner rituals
including joe roucco voices/imitations

8. teahouse
berry forest for grounding
ginkgo for a clear mind
believing in ourselves and each other enough
to move forward
one might say alchemy

9. moon
silvering cloud patches
blueing sky

10. tank top
jean skirt
tall boots
bump n grind slow jams
ocean of sweat

11, crickets
air thick with their chorus
don’t stop, insect singers,
please don’t stop

october. and we shall sing.

1. dreams:
challenging me to a _____-off
a brilliant ridiculousness
laughter breaking us up
how she howls in pain into dorm room window
after toe stubbing
last week of highschool
transplanted to class
in the city
after busses and cars
a bit lost
but finding my way
to room

2. awake to this:
silentely, i wish to sail into your port, i am your sailor
quietly, i drop my weight into your sea, i drop my anchor
i sway in your waves,  i sing in your sleep

3. remembering last night’s radiant body
carrying heat of sun in

4. choreographing the vita shuffle
a series of dance moves to include:
the deepfry
the dishdog
the salad spinner
perhaps also
the scrub
and the prep

5. airborne aardvark sauce
cough is contagious
and fed by laughter

6. sir, yes sir!
jon and i
about wearing fatigues to work
responding to manager
as if he were lieutenant
[don’t ask me why i know how to spell that word].

7. nicoletta’s blue dress kitchen magic
green rice
tortillas from scratch rolled out
from molly’s hands
heirloom tomatoes, refried beans, avocado, delicata squash
heaping plates on back porch devoured
followed by corinne-led ruminations on home
so rare
it’s almost hazey/unrecognizable

8. the ruminations:
home: difficult conversations and cozy tea moments
sometimes all in one sitting
home: not a place i am moving through
but a place i inhabit and tend to
home: combination of aesthetics and mindfulness
creating space to move and breathe and be renewed in

9. this one’s for you corinne:
and new breathing space
between bangs and eyebrows

10. twenty-first century ‘chat’
max on the other end
how a heart can open
and feel held
in warm old-friend arms
from 300 miles away
in black and white
i’ve got you in my planner
and we shall sing

11. tarot cards
in stacey’s hands
alberta park
await me

guilty breeches of the pop music ban

1. dreams:
wandering through 1936 with a crooked leg
three types of train tracks
veining out
from back end of city
surprise package from richard, whom i’ve never met
written in comic cartoon format
pulling up to art college looking like airport
site of my future
in silver zoomzoon mazda
we conference with woman behind crystal desk
knifing open
plastic persian rug pillow package
in hotel room

2. fifteen cool air morning minutes
before the boy who sold the future

3. yoga mats
across dry forest dust
leading us through
sun salutations
that have me taking
mental notes
between breath

4. first breakfast: peach
second breakfast: instant oatmeal, hold the maggots

5. blessing this body
in river water
how i can pick apart the layers
of skin, flesh, bone
as cold soaks in
moving through them

6. guilty breeches
of the pop-music ban

7. the great search
for fish creek road
and the reward
of a fee pipe

8. water
too sun spilled
and greenglass
to deny
and cold
that will keep us

9. rubber band around wrist
a snap for every time

10. clackamas river trail
rough rock
forest dust
pockets of cool
and stretches of sun
navigating the edges
of incline
and dropoff
husks of burnt trees
still alive
have i adored water
as much as this

11. cross section of hundred year old [at least] tree
bleeding sap
climbing through thorns
to touch fingers to it
pine smell
wiped on insides of wrists
and thin chest skin holding ribcage to heart

12. offering natalie
a guided mess tour of the palace
in three parts
mess #1 three week coast to coast road trip
mess#2 wedding weekend at oregon coast
mess#3 two night campout in the mt. hood national forest

13. giddy
hugging each others’ knees
under hummingbird and lace curtain wonder
going back to that gem store
i know nothing about

14. affirmation:
you’re on the level

15. return to the city
return to six hour sleeps

mental four-track

1. dreams:
housegeust at art warehouse
pink orange and red
old airplane hanger/barn
bule silver sculpture of the word hope
beach visit
red yellow and black sand in striated layers
washing over brown
tea with tiger’s mom
what happened?
dog treat floorspill
what i bought/bought into
false advertisement

2. body in tent
head out open door flap
mossed limbs of tree giants
stretching up into sky
sun passing through

3. restoration in the sleep realm

4. an artist
whose medium
is gunpowder

5. unnamed owl
call echoing along waterway
exaggerated in forest hush
if i could quiet
everything around this

6. current mental four track:
track #1: that song from corinne’s mix
nunca, pero nunca…
track #2: wind through low branches
sounding like an approach
track #3: unnatural arch in spine
stretched across smoothed downed tree trunk
track #4: all items catalogued under one name
balancing accountablility with 300 miles

7.  cookstove breakfast scramble
campfire dinner
corn, sweet potatoes
pad thai and rice noodles
with the power of

8.  the child
who, just after birth,
the mother refuses to touch
is there not a name for this?

9. how fire moves through wood
rather than eating it up
the exquisite subtlety of this differnce

10. green blue clear cold
of clackamas family

11. the work of hauling cold water
in 5 gallon buckets

12. hot spring steam
through square wood window
against conifer green
this is a meditation

13. mossy pallete
under waterfall trickle
just beyond
ewok village

avenue of unveiled stars above us

1. out of breath at alberta and 30th
a.m. bike ride of joined forces
the morning begins with gorgeousness
a pony in my living room

2. constant motion marathon
banging through prep list novel
blue ink
on silver dry erase board

3. dreams haunted
unsettled spirits rising from the burial
not ready to die yet

4. hand made ‘write up’ card
for kitchen manager
black sharpie on brown cardboard

5. five sounds of the dark:
1. clackamas tributary
in motion, but not rushing
2. not crickets, but close
(something insecty and squeaking/chirping)
3. at least three different laughs
from campsite #11
4. crinkle of sweet potato chip bag
5. orange flame crackling through wood

6. curve of backs laid against forest road #70
avenue of unveiled stars above us
one brilliant blaze
one whisper

7. tent assembly sitcom
every 3 pole combination attempted
we settle
tired laughs in the dark
for something wobbling, that looks close enough

8. endless series
of unexpected hearts and arms opening
infinite gratitude
in response

9. great birthday festival planning
synchronized dance
scavenger hunt
laughing club
hot air balloon
free hugs
coast getaway
performance extravaganza

hanging wishes/intentions on setting sliver of parchment moon

1. dream:
tony [and someone else sometimes]
huge warehouse/make mess space
human rocket through the roof
gay operatic door man
missed spanish class [dream nested within a dream]
music machine with sticking dial

2. rainbow warriors wake me,
reaching into thickness
sad carved into sleep
pulling me up towards surface

3. corinne from front porch
ciao mi amor!
grey tshirt
black ball cap

4. 9:32am
roadtrip reportback
unexpected offering:
paul’s arms

5. for the burial:
let me hold you
come caress my body
you got me going crazy
turn me on

6. sungold garden explosion in mouth
sweet tang
taste of orangeygold

7. summer’s first concord grapes

8. hanging wishes/intentions
on setting sliver of parchment moon
orange skyspill and disappeared sun
shiz and corinne at my sides
hands on pens
noses in books

9. how perspective
assauges and panics me
in the same moment
low blood sugar hand shake
bubbly water fizzing in mouth

10. curled atop browns and yellows
corinne and i navigate
edges and depths

11. lykke li
sound brings taste of homemade cinnamon buns
wet winter at 3131 victoria
dog-haired front room rug
return home on delay