Coconut Woman

When I lived on Hawaii I ate
Coconuts
She said
When I lived on Hawaii I ate coconut.
When I lived on Hawaii I watched
Surfers sail
She said
Surfers sailing past the beach.
When I lived on Hawaii I danced
(A lot)
She said
When I lived on Hawaii I danced a lot.

When she cut up a coconut
Just for me
Just for me
She told these stories
when she cut up a coconut
just for me.

 

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Ocean Girl

I’m an ocean girl.
Not a river person
(although rivers are fine)
and definitely not a lake person
(lakes don’t go anywhere,
they’re greedy, collecting taxes from streams).
I have to have an ocean nearby
like a security blanket:
I am still here,
your old home.
Everything’s alright.
I need to hear the waves
against the shoreline.
An infant,
craving its mother’s heartbeat.

Sometimes, Jazz Happens

The Lonely Shore

I was walking down
the lonely shore
of 5th Avenue,
the closed stores of our rendezvous,
alone.

How could you leave me there?

On some other night,
some other beach
of streets and taxis,
we might have wandered out of reach,
unknown.

But you met me there…

It’s hard not to despair the ending,
it’s tempting when you’re walking on the shore,
to want… more…
more…
more.

I am walking down
the lonely shore
of Fifth Avenue,
past closed doors of our rendezvous,
alone.

Seriously, Who Dropped the Cookie?

My ego wants to be beautiful
My ego wants to be respected
My ego wants to be heard
My ego wants to be Audrey Hepburn
(And also Myrna Loy)
My ego wants to be desired
My ego wants to be loved
My ego wants to be needed
My ego wants to be Susan Sontag
(And also Lerner & Loewe)

My soul wants me to know
That dancing is more important
And singing
And laughing
And taking a picture of that ridiculous cookie on the sidewalk
(Seriously, who leaves a cookie on a sidewalk, and
Just where were all the squirrels?)

The rest is noise
(You know this)

Cities of Noise

Comments, likes, and dislikes,
opinions and petitions and condemnations…
New York City is quieter than the internet.
I walk past the scenes,
and I look mostly at the museums and the
planetariums, try to find the gardens of thought
like the quiet places in the middle of town
to step out of the noise ~
The hidden grotto,
The doorway of an old forgotten church,
A playground at a school closed down for the summer.
Sometimes I pray for rain,
something to make the multitude go quiet,
and I resolve myself in those moments not to
be a part of the cacophony.
But the other voices are so loud that shouting seems
like the only way to go.

…I long for kitten videos…

Pilgrims Progress (Won’t You?)

I’m pretty tired of pilgrims,
(even though I do like the occasional buckle on shoes).
But they’ve worn out their welcome
(AGAIN).
I’d like to put a new sign next to the Statue of Liberty,
One that doesn’t face out but IN:

Take your tired gods, your narrow thinking, your silent (and not so silent) judgment to The Somewhere Else (Not Here). We’re trying to do something different here. Thinking, for starters. DREAMERS wanted. Others need not apply.

And you can take your scarlet letters with you,
From the A all the way to the Z.
(But I’m keeping the shoes.)