maternal stress dreams
and secret places in mississippi
our place, you never told us
all the avocados are over ripe
and i am crying so hard i can't breath
it's the farewell times
and you're still in denial
you tell me i am in-acting a roll i've assigned myself
resentments aren't rooted in any reality

still you tell me my business is out of code,
i shouldn't make new life and
i will never deserve to be loved.

we are at party that spans blocks in a city
we break away, flirting
enter a door, one that is not part of the festivities, but otherwise not blocked
it is a fancy bulding with colorful marble everywhere.  the security misses us as we pass through
we decend stairs. each landing as beautiful in color palette as the one previous
we enter a door and there are people in there. cleaning crew.  they say it's alright you should enter
we are welcomed and they  mention my lazy eye
they are warm and inviting. one of the women says she can fix my eye.  she is surrounded by fashion illustrations.
there are children there now
we are entertaining the children and otherwise losing track of ourselves.
we are taken back into the back ally - it seems we have found an alternative block party

taken into their world -- separated. take our bags.  then paraded to be assessed. let free.  they try and turn us against each other.  set us free, but say we will be watching

i am assistant teaching a class and one of the kids is the student and the teacher reprimands me for being prejudice.  i say you have to ahve expereienced this every year. and then the take over happens.
and i am left, and eric is taken and they get a flock of blackbirds to send word. which i smash out of the sky. with the exception of one tucan

and one black bird who gets away
and i bring eric back and rachel
and david byrne applauds the performance
the toucan baths in a river down stream

"a small gift" a lladro,  a thank you to our mistress for the performance.  it is a with a sleigh, inside a fallen bambi, legs sticking straight up and out. you find a place in the back of a cupboard to display it.

i am peter pan.  david and eric in the other room, they are going to check out some of his new paintings, a gaugin. you are delighted to see. they invite the mistress. isn't danielle a painter? he asks and you say no and leave me behind to eat bread with a kid (who is not evil.)

i am in a car headed to a movie - the driver is evil - i catch a girl on the street looking long and hard at his face with a look of horror and concern.  when i look up in the rearview he is adjusting his nose. these girls who are my friend try and make me go to the other movie but i stick with the original plan.
i sit next to a guy who kisses my cheek and feeds me popcorn
are you gonna watch the movie or what?
al called and she needs help with the topcoat
her breath sounded like nothing i've ever heard before

on the bow of a ship i lay on my back
a blue book
a box of craypas
a sketch book and a speaker
it is the edge of the break of day and the hills are speckled with lights
we edge towards red rocks
a man, local as he is ancient
hunts in a puddle
for a fish
with a spear

we enter the canyon the ocean water has carved. an in let of red stripes like fingers on each side.  it is magnificent.  mud drips on my body from the roof of a cavern. it is rich with shit of the ages. so red it's grey and i am covered from head to toe.

i sneak back in and am over looked by older men as i undress. mud still covers my skin, my face, my hair.  I am capturing everything on my phone, which allows me to see behind, farther than my eyes

women with their daughters, mothers teaching their trades.  tending to tailless cats and small small horses
i show my mom the way my mud mask has dried.  it peels off in chunks despite my best efforts to keep it on.  i want to show her my transformation.

his acting persona on the phone is a dramatic difference from the one he uses with me
a dial turning between roles

we were active behind her back
you say you like variety and a quick change of pace

phone calls you out
i am left behind in soot with puzzles
and not my nephews smoking
one hour at the most turns to seven
and a warrant
and a favor

underground away trapped
mind games and favors
ranking systems
and an ass worth money
drain the pool
exit up the elevator
pass a new horror every floor

first to the water where we sat
tiles clean and smooth
next to the sand
and tiles granular and gritty

now you know
everything I could ever want
you think
you read my phone
my receipts
my search history

i leave my tracker by the water where we sat
and continue disconnected

the families who co-mingled with the goats
bore children to be centaurs
so I named their houses accordingly
till highbred denial
poisoned my plate

guilty by association,
guilty by assist
guilty by action

earlier, i was looking for a moldable magnet
i made friends with other witches
one who had grown to care for the bees
beyond purchase and packaging

I was staying in Louis V stately estate
and attending lectures
she was in a space that was secret, but sterile
and not over the bridge to other people enough
her face was over-worn.

again, current, at the end.
I am queen and people over assist me
I am trying to hop a fence being pulled open
I am walking through glass when the gate a jar
They are trying to make me complacent
 and weaken my grip on matter

(I heard our songs coming out a window of the university and i flew
in cognito to a closer look)

Oppositional

finding my personal precipice
he offered to be my guide

at the airport
he takes a spoon of milk and I'm spitting up and dripping snot onto my upper lip

Plastic gelatin napkins
soaked wiped, a cold jelly clean.
And you look up my nose
and tell me the coast is clear.

I am up against myself inverted
There is no glitter on my wings (I hate glitter I insist)
I leave behind crumbs and dust
I bring no jokes, no sunshine
I am tears and gnashing and snotty from the milk
I will crush these grapes in the cracks of your clean couch.
I am an easy target,
Because I am dirty
When you say I'm dirty
But you never give them any context
And for that power play
You precipice is no safer than mine

He met the perfect mate
And almost lost it
Remembering the fragile million.

They could cover my wall in paper
I could leap off the edge of this stairwell
The later would scare everybody because they don't know I can fly

I wish the wedding was in Tokyo
A thread of red pulls out a pore in my neck
I wish I was headed to Tokyo
I sit up straight even though it makes me feel too big. 
I tell her I can dream straight but I can't seem to live straight.  Everything is to far apart.  It's more fun to fly
Her thread is matching red,
Then pulls a second white over her heart
I feel for mine,  but there's only a lump
What's that?
I don't say
The way I die.

a dream my brain turned blue
and revealed itself
in little splotches on my forehead