The Maestro says it's Mozart
but it sounds like bubble gum
when you're waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

ah Leonard Cohen knows it all, ah Leonard your sex is in the vowels.

The Seconds

taking pictures

i wanna go back to the ghetto and take pictures of all the rusted metal and garbage bags overflowing on the lawn, all the broken glass and furniture thrown, landed on the front step. i wanna take pictures of the gravel pit and the factory making whatever spews black smoke all the time. i wanna take pictures of all the signs faded and painted over new names, the empty windows of the hardware store, the imported ladies clothing all dark and dusty inside. i wanna take pictures of the desperate outside the coffee shop with dirty pants and hands and eyes wanting to see something beautiful instead of the garbage, the mud, the dust that flies in the air and lands on their shirt sleeves making them sneeze. i wanna take pictures of the train that passes by with cars full of rock no people. i wanna take pictures of the tulips coming up between the cracks all yellow and full in the sun, the way grass grows in between the concrete sidewalk.

May

May reminds me of my grandfather cause he was born May 2 but his birth certificate said May 3 for some reason and so he had two birthdays.

It is really easy for me to picture his face and I keep painting it without realizing it. He is looking at me from the big unfinished piece behind my door, eyes closed.

The sun is shining, I have no food in the fridge save a couple of apples and all I want to do is sleep. I want to feel the sun on my face and my muscles working but not enough, sleep is so strong there must be a spirit that wills it.