Category: Uncategorized

Non specific

It is never a
memory just

the memory.

It’s never
specific until
it is.

Until all of a
sudden it’s

15 years later
and for the
first time in

that time the
entire complete
dialogue of a

poem by Sole1 can
just pop
into my head.

The poem we’d
recite
thousands
of times that I

thought was long
forgotten.

You know they
called you junkie
number one.

They said everything
was wrong with me
because I

missed you so much
at an inconvenient
time. I was a kid

and the older I get,
the younger of a kid
you were too.

I have done so
much work. So much
writing. So much rage.

So much sadness and
so many reality checks
of what we actually were

and who we would have
lived to die to
become.

I don’t do drugs.
I’ve been clean from
all drugs and alcohol

for seven years. I can’t
remember the last time
I said your name out loud.

It is never
a memory just

the memory.

Of words all put
together it’s a poem

a gift
a haunting.

It would have been
easier if you would have
just become someone
from a lifetime ago

that I

could stalk on the
internet

but
something else
chose the lessons.

I hope you are
resting

in
peace.

Coopers Hawk

I decided to
quit drinking
in April of

2009. I had just
come off a
rough break up –

had split my
face in a club
on the floor

in front of my
x and his fancy
friends. I was

that girl, screaming
and covered in
blood from

what they told me
later.

I got into another
“relationship”

shortly after and
while I have had
a ball character

sketching what a
piece of work that
one was in my

latest novel I

know at the end
of the day it’s
only a reflection

of what I allowed
in my life.

I swore I could stop
drinking – I just
didn’t feel like it

and
some of the
hardest years
of my life were those –

realizing that I
had no control.

February 13 was my
original clean date.

I worked at this
chain restaurant that
sold a lot of shitty

wine in fancy giant
glass cone
shaped decanters.

I started work at
ten am that day.
The sixty

or so decanters were
filled with water and
had to be taken off of
a shelf, dumped out and

dried.

I hadn’t had a drink
in days. No cocktails
to deal, no shots to
have fun, not a single

beer to be able to just
sit with people.

My hands shook and that
was easy to ignore or
say was a result of

9 espresso shots but –
I picked up that

decanter shaking and
dropped it. The shatter
didn’t even make me jump.

I just picked up another
one. Dropped it.

And another.
And another.

I wasn’t sure if I was
shattering them on
purpose or accident.

The floor covered in
water and glass.

Getting clean has been
my greatest salvation

but at first it felt like
exactly what I just
described.

Today I am grateful
for the pain that it
took to come up with

the willingness
to do something

different.

My big sister is my hero

I ask her
how her
job is.

She says
to me

“Well. Yesterday
I had a six hour
conference call

and six hours
of emails to
catch up on
afterwards.

In the middle
of that
a supervisor

called to give
me feedback on
not properly

facilitating my
conference call.

Other people
kept calling me
to see if I had

followed up on
their emails from

10 am yet. I picked
up the kids and
managed to make

them dinner and
put them to

bed. After that
I sat on the
couch and

just cried.

Sometimes I
don’t feel like I
do anything

right and it’s
all I can do to
just be aware and

not take it out
on the kids or
my husband.”

We talk on the
phone on Saturdays

just like my Dad
would if he

still
could.

Horrible Bosses.

Yesterday I
walked out
on my job.

Straight up
threw up my
middle fingers

and walked out.
If there was
anything that

working in a
job I couldn’t
handle for five

years taught me
in retrospect it
is that no matter
what

I always
had a choice –
I just played it

like I didn’t. I
grew up thinking
that everything

everyone else was
doing was happening
to me and I didn’t

have a choice. Today,
I do – and today –

I am not willing
to support some
assholes ego

at the expense of
clients in a
behavioral health

facility. It didn’t
feel anything like
the movies make it
look like

but I’ll be
goddamned if
compromising
my ability to

live healthy,
respected and
free is what’s

going to
have to buy
the cat food.

I’m done working
in drug rehab.

I’m not sure what I
thought I had to prove
but I’m done now.

Today I did my yoga.
I went to the temple.
It’s an hour north

of here in the middle
of nowhere.
I finished my second

fourth step.
Meditated.

I have no idea what
is going to happen
but I know

that I don’t
have to go back

to that place. As
long as I

take care of
myself the

rest
will

follow.

Firefly Dusk

Last night
my sister was
in Disneyland.

I was the waitress
at the table. Her
young children and

husband surprised me
by sitting in my section
for dinner.

I couldn’t believe
they were there and
I was so happy to

see them that I
barely noticed
the empty seat.

“No sit here.
You don’t
serve dinner

any more.” My
sister laughed.

I took off my
apron and sat down
at the table. The

Magic Kingdom was
the back drop and
I twisted around in
my chair to see

a few yards away,
through the crowd
our father.

Just watching us,
with the most peaceful
and glowing smile
on his face.

I kept trying to
get him to come
and sit with us but

he kept letting me
know telepathically
that he couldn’t.

So I just watched him
among the crowd
watching his family

be his family but not
moving any further
forward.

I woke up to my
alarm. 5:53 a.m.

I kept trying to go
back to sleep so I
could catch him

from that dream and
keep that feeling but

like a child after a
lightning bolt on a
summers evening I

couldn’t seem to
grasp him back.

On fear

I woke up this morning
to read that the current
President

of the United States
signed an executive
order to ban

refugees from certain
“Muslim” countries
from coming to

the United States.
I sat in bed.

With my husband, who
just got a green card,
our cats and our dogs.

The stories of
Syria
Rwanda
1930s Europe

playing in my head.
The BBC said that
even people on planes
that were on their way

to the US with the proper
Visa to return back
here to their loved ones

were turned away at
US customs.

I remember that day,
waiting for my life
to start at a US customs
boarder.

A lot of the time,
my world is very small.

I am in the talks of
teaching yoga at
West Care and an

HIV/AIDS outreach
program in downtown
Las Vegas. I have the

privilege of teaching
Monday – Friday and a
good job that pays well.

Today I

bitched about traffic
on the 515 and I sweat
so much in a hot room

that I thought my head
was going to ooze off.

I saw a friends new home.
I had a decaf coffee and
fell asleep in my husbands
arms

after taking his class.
But I also felt a cool
and very clear chill of fear

go through my spine.
Fear of what is going
to happen to this great

country and it’s order
that I used to think
couldn’t change.

“Maybe we should just
move to London.” I found
myself mumbling.

“I can see us in ten years,
trying to remember the
beginning

of it all being
destroyed. Maybe we
should just go

now. While we can. I
need a UK passport

anyway.”

I am afraid
for the future.

skyfall

Slowly this
morning I
woke up.

It was light
but gray with
the rain softly

strumming the
window. Two
dachshounds

wedged on either
side of my body.

From a deep sleep
the whole
day felt like

pajamas and warm
socks. My husband

comes home from the
yoga class he taught.

Kisses my forhead.
We listen to the
rain together,

hold hands, debate
if we want to cook
breakfast or go out.

The rain is cold and
consistent but the
bakery restaurant is
warm.

We get decaf cappuccinos,
chocolate cake, poached eggs
with salmon, hot soup and
spinach pie. He holds

my hand across the
table. The rain

falls and the sky
shudders. He tells me
the story of his first

trip to Las Vegas in
1995. His friend puked
in the fountain at some
strangers wedding and

the next day he rented
a convertible sports car
to drive to the Grand Canyon

except
it was raining and
hailing the whole way
and

when they got to it
the canyon was all full
of a cloud and you
couldn’t see anything.

I laughed
so hard at
breakfast today

holding his hand.

We came home and
went back to sleep.

The rain continues
as the wind kicks up.
It was a happy

storm.