Rusty cowgirl

Old dusty road
Babbling bubbling inner dialogue  crooked spine
 soul on fire
True grit
Trekking through the rows of houses 
Children, lovers, mamas n papas
All gathered around together
Laughing, cooking 
Sayin grace,
 looking at family pictures 
 building stories
Nostalgia  in a thick, dreamy haze fills my brain 
as I walk alone
been here before
The fiery maple leaves 
crest in waves 
 perfect wrought iron fence
 protects a brightly lit house 
 blinking red and gold lights 
 electric candy 
 this time of year
 excitement 
 misery
 so lonesome 
I could cry
 the well's run dry 
I was an ocean
 nourishing 
Endless
Always a cowgirl
Don't fence me in 
and I will be a river
 

My Texas heart is full.

I am from a broken down F150 in the yard, its camper proudly displaying rotting rose printed curtains and two big mouth bass decals on the sides. It sits there still in a wild flower jungle full of old tools and night mares.

I am from fire crystals that made so many fires into what looked just like Chinese New Year with the people you love. Nights spent under the biggest skies laughing and telling stories on hay bales

I am from "I got it at the getting place" and endless beatings. Nights spent hiding from the whiskey monster.

I am from bb guns, riding bikes past the dump, and pulling nails out of windows to sneak out into the unknown.

I am from skinned knees and climbing trees, watching the sunset everyday and feeding the horses grass.

I am from truth or dare, Vietnam veterans, broken old men and sleeping under bridges.

I am from dancing naked in the rain, breaking into swimming pools and riding the spinnaker at Six Flags over  and over. Always riding alone cuz it made me slide to the back of the car and giggle while Arlington spun past me.

I am from catching perch off the dock, baitin' the trotline and picking dinner from the garden. The fried catfish, fresh sliced tomatoes with salt, fried okra and sun tea were  devoured after saying grace.

I am from long distance trucking, sneaking out dads whiskey and hiding in abandoned houses.

I am from skinny dipping, lightning bugs and June bugs rattling screen doors.

I am from locusts  calling out in waves, cottonwood floating and giant willow trees to nap under.

My heart is red and sweet, it pounds like a bull thundering across open prairie.


" Hard to be soft,
tough to be tender. "

"Too young to hold on,
And too old to just break free and run."





I am stoking my own fire. It's a good heat I'm building to last.

Anticipation

Anticipation

Electricity flashes through my brain
as I think of you coming into the house.   I'm soaping my thighs, hips and ankles as I fantasize that your hands are on my body. I hear your deep rumbling voice tell me I'm such a good girl. I feel your strong hands circle my thighs, the back of my knee, the bell of my ass. You hug my body while your on your knees behind me. You kiss my hips slowly while the warm water rushes down to my toes.  You taste me, testing the waters. I spread my legs saying "drink me". You bury your mouth in my pussy from behind lapping at my clit and I shudder. I feel your urgency to explore and let you dive into my body head first. You lick me over and over working your way into my ass. I'm quaking now. My legs are like jelly. You put me on my knees in my room. Still dripping wet the both of us are. I'm blind folded and quiet. I feel the air rushing, but it's too late to wince before the paddle cracks my ass. The sting flows like lava.  My instinct takes over and I back up into the air like a cat in heat. I feel your fingers on my head delicately 
curl a fistful of my hair holding me in place. "Down" you tell me. I sit back on my haunches whimpering. 

My lover the sea

My Lover the Sea

I am that child with the round, dirty face
who on every corner bothers you with his
"can you spare a quarter?"
I am that child with the dirty face
no doubt unwanted
that from far away contemplates coaches
where other children
emit laughter and jump up and down considerably

I am that unlikeable child
definitely unwanted
with the round dirty face
who before the giant street lights or
under the grandames also illuminated
or in front of the little girls that seem to levitate
projects the insult of his dirty face

I am that angry and lonely child of always,
that throws you the insult of that angry child of always
and warns you:
if hypocritically you pat me on the head
I would take that opportunity to steal your wallet.

I am that child of always
before the panorama of imminent terror,
imminent leprosy, imminent fleas,
of offenses and the imminent crime.

I am that repulsive child that improvises a bed
out of an old cardboard box and waits,
certain that you will accompany me.

- Reinaldo Arenas (1943-1990)

Dream time

Dreamed I was trying to save this man from death. Death was like being rotten and threadbare under water screaming hollowness. The instrument of death was a gun. The gun was shot and went through this quarter making a perfect hole. I was in some huge garage.  The killer was a henchmen who could turn into a snake like creature made of paper. I was tricking it into laughter. I woke myself up talking to it. I had two souls to save from him, the souls were brothers. Pigment, concrete, machines. I also dreamed before that I was tending this couple. They were sleeping together on the ground in this huge theater kind of back stage among light rigging and props. I was taking double handfuls of wet sand and patting their hips. They were spooning. I was careful not to wake them. I was scared the man would rape me if he woke up. The woman was my sister. Somehow that gave the man the right to take me if he so desired. I did not like that. I started building bigger hips and thighs on my own body with the sand. I was sitting on my knees thinking of cleopatra. There were electrical circuits under the sand and machines for me to manipulate. .......

Lately drumming

pretend I'm going to sleep
Dreaming of c batteries
Thinking of the perfect lover
Touching myself
Blazing a path from my yoni to my heart
A stroke of lightning
In my kitty bed
In my brothers closet
Unbeknownst to them all
I stoke the fire inside
Burning hotter than the sun
Between my thighs 
Pillars of joy
Cocked and loaded
Ansy Trigger finger 
Disco fever in my pj's
Pushing the limits
Of my own pleasure
Desire
Fingers in my mouth
Suckling the flesh
Of my own rare fruit
Exploring the possibilities
Fiddler in the shadows
Getting to know me
Increasing velocity
At the thought of you
Inside me pushing
All boundaries
My pulse like a drum
Signaling other tribes
DANGER
Explosions of shattered magick
Flying through space
Out of time
My secret song
Fills the air
With headiness 

wild at heart

A light ever traveling
toward super nova
a galaxy folds into itself
causing it to warp
a heart freed from pain
heavy with longing
to belong
to be lighted
to super nova
smoothing out my face lines
walking with a lighter step
broadening my graciousness
overflowing with gratitude
octopus arms like tongues licking the air
searching out meaning
in the center of the hive
a cyborg metropolis
complete with drone after drone
tasting and smelling
all of the beauty and horror
bustling around me and
within me