well and still

nights like these i want to call cathy
call cathy with her long lioness red hair
pay her off for an entire carton of smoking
(i am told not to talk/write/poet aboutsmoking
for it labels me as YOUNG and JUVENILE and BADASS
attempt at a writer) even though all she smokes
are 27's and that hill is mile high and I am
four cigarettes till empty so why bother

nights like these i'm going crazy or it is
not crazy just a strong desire to take off
cut and run be a million miles where i'm
unfollowable

we have to talk FEMINISM and all I can do is
l i s t e n and smoke chains and you talk
EQUALITY and JUSTICE and UNDERSTANDING while the
RADICALS run rampant so many buzzwords to kill my
buzz when we speak of LESBIANS MANHATERS PRIVILEGE
if only we could just open our hearts
while mine seems to shutter shut closed

I don't even know what to say about those great
laureled womyn's schools which we argued about
before we were in love because i feel safer
here quiet growth like a peace goddamn
orgasm and does it make me a radical

and do you even remember?

not tonight. tonight i want to flee into the
hills under that tree on a cold bus
seat or out in an abandoned car and
forget ideals which are supposed to be
grown in the heart

I'm not even smoking anymore it's too
sweet and I didn't say but I threw up
last night and almost quit i want to quit
want to put the phone down turn out the
lights want everyone to be alone and curled
in an endless night remember what
arms felt like and hearts felt like
and all be lonely even for just a minute
i want to sleep and wake up in the sun.

counter intuitive maybe which has been thrown
around too much tonight but maybe that's all we need
because i want my hear to be warm again i want to
crave sunlight which may be the only way to do so
is to wake up from the cold place only to find
you reached daylight again and smoking is still
bad and you are well and still in love and
you never want to quit.

-august 29,
Oakland