foliage

Morning stream
Violet sky
olive streets
the rain dancers
rocked back & forth
hands waving in the sky
water drops squeezed from the cotton sky
the city tropics
unscrunch
and open
like the chest of grand ballet dancer
pushed into the sky
while the 100 degree burned
are coy in their re-greening
the rest of us cradle inside
hiding for a few

Cluster Fuck

The bad sides of Washington:

Meetings are either
1- a cluster fuck- everyone that's an expert on vague things becomes an expert on specific things suddenly: ie i work on middle east, so i am going to talk about blogging because middle easterners blog and then they leave it once it isn't a trend.
2- administered by generalists who don't know how to extract really important details from panelists/audience, instead of wide trends, lets talk about how something does or doesn't work specifically
3- are full of people that think the same way, so nobody learns anything new.
4- are attended by or organized by people who do not care about society or people anymore, instead they are concerned with getting published because that's how they will keep their current fellowships/think tank positions. not much is on the line for them in terms of the populations they serve.

The good sides of Washington:

1- a bunch of people are choosing not to go to meetings, and instead of working in coffee shops on cool projects that make a difference
2- a bunch of people are choosing to be creative instead of talkative
3- a bunch of people are meeting to create, produce, or reflect on concrete projects

July Don't Stop

July don’t stop
Your wall of un-oxygenated
Air
And the waves of light
That shine inside
the atmosphere's skin
Making a dull heavy glow
like an enormous sun cloud
ready to emit
sunshine hail
Things cook and interact
React and suddenly create
In that solid stuffy holdable heat
Warm like a silk blankets on our skin
Hot like sweaty armpits
Clothes barely permitted
Smells enhanced and around
We can’t hide ourselves
July don’t stop
Give me my hot mornings of a sun rayed bed,
One thin sheet only
eyes swollen with summer sleep
dried chlorinated hair
moaning of the AC
July don’t stop
Helping me find my kind
The tropical beach makers
The apartment is a stove
Only the naked will survive

Forgetting and Remembering in July

The air was like a blanket you would throw off
In the heat of the middle of the night
We walked through it like a cobweb
As we strolled down the sidewalk
The time for flowers and blooms
Was over
It was skin and ice cream
I walked with you
Letting
The sun
Beat in our sweaty hearts
We will continue
Until we stop
You twirl me
Grab me
Kiss me
And we forget
Until morning

Alone
In the shower
words and melodies
thoughts and
reviews
water dazzles
in the window's rays
I know
I don't have to search
My shoulders wash
Wet feet step onto the floor

the morning goodbye
an hour before
hardens like the fresh concrete
with the child's footprint
stuck in it

chemical child raising?

See I had been looking for quite some time
For something I couldn’t really define
Sometimes I got close
And then I always got far
Bc what I wanted
And what was
Still were not the same
Then we
went dancing
On the second floor
Of that restaurant
That night
I thought we
Were just going to eat
And talk about politics
Turned out
You wanted to womanize
And so you did
I wondered if I would block it
Or let it be
But then on that dance floor
U came to me
Was it then
Or before
When it happened?
The chemistry?
Was it just movement
and skin
just hands holding
and mutual absurdities
things of no value
in the daily life
of bills and child raising?
your smell
is what I crave
now as I wonder these things
a simple night
of spontaneity
feels so right
against
the sky
of not quite

the thing about summer

is that it reveals
those who know how to play
and those who don't

Europe

makes me sentimental