Musings and Mirth
Trying not to worship the Sun
Water eludes capture,
leaks and drains where it can
before drying up
and giving itself over to air
Underneath it, the earth’s crust bakes
October and it’s still too hot.
Here comes you
A perfect storm,
swollen earth soaked with
and swallowed up
Leaving surfaces wet and slippery
Flirting with electricity
only you could put out
Reflecting up what looked into you
a world of undiscovered history
You never leave me dry.
Involuntary juices called forth
like swollen, bursting clouds
not waiting for the right moment
to unleash the deluge.
It’s never wet here in the desert for very long.
Soon the pools of dark water will evaporate,
The dirt surfaces will crack again,
turn to dust again,
What remains is whatever is left
when the storm passes.
Flowers, hundreds of them.
Clean glass windows on cars.
Tiny hidden puddles that remember.
Outside of Playa del Carmen
Wind bends trees to kiss the sand
Thirty, forty, a hundred tiny crabs
Cross the strip of highway
Over half will die
A hurricane stirred in a nearby continent
The sea turned our legs numb
A nightmare of conflicting directions.
drowning in it.
The dampness of the sheets,
In a triangle bed
How the sun sank,
Vodka drenched lips
Palm pushing my chin back.
The crabs flattened like paper dolls
under the heavy wheels of cars
Nothing can stop a hurricane
Nothing can keep you alive
a minute past too late.
You know, the answer to her question whether people will ever take her seriously, is a resounding no. But that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t keep on keeping on. No one will ever take her seriously because they look at her life and don’t think she, in any way, shape or form, can relate. How can she relate to anything ground-level?
But I admire anyone who is this outspoken. As long as their politics are on the right side.
Feet bare on August cooked asphalt
Ojai sky indigo
trapped under heavy orange glow
Naked for the first time
When the moon, you said
Crab grass prickling under our feet
dewy leaves feather brushed our skin
Say I love you, he said.
But you don’t mean it.
Say it anyway.
Just for tonight.
Because the moon.
We wrapped our arms like morning glory
and its strangling flower
No time for blood rising
Nor fluids nor warmth–
Just the night
The unwanted I love you
left laying out of its box
Long after our homes took us back
Katy Perry’s career took a while to build. But once she hit, she became a sensation of all sorts. But homegirl is decidedly unlucky in love. Many of her biggest songs really trace the outline of her romantic maturity and, I think, can work as a crude roadmap to similar young girls who have no idea the kind of power they have when they start out building relationships.
When we first heard from Ms. Perry she was trying out the language of love. Waking up in Vegas, I kissed a Girl. It seemed as though all was going pretty well but then came the crushing blunt force trauma of having dumped a guy who would rather get “wasted” than be on Team Katy. So that one ended and became Circle the Drain and it would be on the California Dreams album
So Miss Perry learned that maybe it wasn’t so worthwhile if a rock star dude picks you. He has to stay awake during foreplay, for starters. He was history. And then Katy Perry laid on a cotton candy cloud naked and had the world in the palm of her hand. She was the California Gurl.
Enter boob-loving Russell Brand who took one look at her famous 23 DDs and found a kind of love. Katy fell hard too. This was the best thing Katy had ever experienced. Russell Brand thought she was pretty without any makeup on, and laughed when she told the punchline wrong! She was his teenage dream and they fell into a passionate affair, sex on the beach! What could possible go wrong?
Well, when you go that high, you have nowhere to go but down. Sadly, Brand broke Katie’s heart and there she was, again ALONE! He took almost everything from her except:
Poor Katie Perry couldn’t make that relationship with Brand work. She apparently thought it was her – she wasn’t enough, she wasn’t home enough, she wasn’t good in bed enough. She nursed a broken heart and then attached herself to John Mayer. Accept me? She pleaded, not realizing that she’s Katy Fucking Perry. Well, after Mayer pulled his usual shit with her she just said, you know what? Fuck this noise. Something clicked and she figured out that she is worth more than the men who will accept her or reject her. And now, you’re going to hear her roar:
Seriously, it’s hard to imagine that anyone who looked like Katy Perry would ever feel like not enough, or would ever feel that she doesn’t have a choice. Love is a pop song sometimes. Other times it’s a horror film. And still other times it’s a rock anthem. It will chew you up and spit you out. It will do damage to you or it will elude you for all of your life. Or you’ll be one of the lucky ones who finds someone to love you just as much. It’s a terrible virus and a cure all in one. But maybe there isn’t anything better a human being can feel, even if you have to face down rejection.
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