332/265

you see him walking
down market street
toward the embarcadero
green bomber jacket
orange guts flashing
doc martins corduroy pants.
out grown bleached blond hair
scrawny arms tattood with birds
charcoal eyebrows drawn
with rage and indignation.
off the muni from the height
headed to a bus boy shift
at a shitty corporate restaurant  
a portable cd player blasts
ritual de lo habitual and maybe yield.
you see him shelping bins
nacho cheese smeared dishes
and half drunk cokes, dodging
food runners and the incessant
soundtrack drilling holes in his skull.
after midnight, shift over, he follows
the wait staff to that hole in the wall
indian place where they know the bartender
who waters them with free drinks
tiffany tells him he’s cute- too bad she’s
not into guys. the room is spinning
at four am. you don’t see him getting home
due to the messy fog of memory.
he was there. young. alive.
an innocent feeble punk. waking up
at noon, grabbing sustenance at the salad place
below his apartment. time on the porch
sun soaked skin getting ready for another shift.

284/365

sunday afternoon
at fifteen seventy six.
ninteen ninety six?
the algebra of memory
rarely solved. laying
in the back yard,
under tender sun,
the three of us.
hair golden.
skin bronzed
lost in blades of grass
and dead lyrics:

please don't
be surprised
when you find
me dreaming too.

we’ll ride wild
horses in the hills.
i’ll clumsily take you
to that spinning restaurant
in the city. driving
across the bridge.
scratched cds
the soundtrack
of youth.

i’ll profess a love
i’ll never be capable
of delivering-
i want them if they want me-
is the saddest lyric i whisper
at dawn. the sun coming up
from the couch. the iron woodstove
burns quietly. bodies scattered
in aftermath.
 
soon i’ll head south and this
tiny spark will flicker and fade
like a firefly dying in a jar.
an ember floating too high
embraced by enough
oxygen to obliterate us.

247/365

you’re a fat fuck.
and you’re running clothes
don’t fit right. you should
consider a bra, which is weird
since you’ve always been
the scrawniest person in the group.
you sport khaki shorts
and draft a fantasy football team.
middle aged clone placing safe bets,
wearing a safety preserver.

all of us with wings.
all of us with wings.
all of us with wings.

jane’s addiction is
the worm hole
into a past so familiar that
you can reach out and touch it-
it’s yesterday in that apartment
on natoma, the silver shirt and
your cousin up from santa barbara
for the show with ken kesey
at the bill graham auditorium,
you're in the stands,
with that vest from the indian restaurant
with the tiny mirrors. you are a disco ball
forgotten in oblivion, lost in it,
and floating across time. a delayed acid test
in muted tones.

young men need to understand  
that we are hanging on for dear life.
it matters just as much to us as it matters to you.
the music is just as loud and the stakes are just as loud.

the hair is white,
the gut is large,
the fire still burns.  

29/365

1998- i’m working at pier 23
living on natoma ave
south of market.

i see people shit on the curb
at noon
and get my hair cut
by the vietnamese guy
on the corner.

i ride a bike to work
and slalom home
after midnight-
crow bar in north beach:
fernet and a batch of drinks.

the middle room is dark
they’re asleep
jane’s addiction is so loud
they ask me to move out.
i may have broken the glass table.

twenty one years later
screaming mountain song
into a microphone…

cash in now honey
cash in now baby

you better cash in.

Terror and Wonder

A Day In Four Acts


Act I


Swallowed my doubt and anxiety and took Tricia's advice to just think of my meetings like the many workshops I have led, and to see my team like the many teachers I have taught throughout the years in various roles.


I headed into school and got to thinking and planning and building a meeting. Not sure if I will get to everything or if I am making too big a deal about this, but I want to try and make at least a few of my meetings like workshops and experiences. There is nothing more precious to a teacher than time, so if we are going to decide to meet then that time should be spent feeling something, learning something or making some sound and necessary decisions.


I have sat through my share of uninspired meetings, and while I know that you cannot please everyone, or that not every meeting should be life-changing, it is important to try different things that will make the participants feel valued and appreciated. You want people to look forward to your meetings, so that even when they are feeling frantic or tired, they still come energized and ready to work and move toward whatever goal you had set at the start.


I’m still not sure how this will all go, but I am pretty excited to be trying it and learning from my mistakes. After four years at UWCSEA it is time for me to shake things up and I am feeling pretty great about the next few days, weeks, and the year as a whole.


Act II


I got some terrible news about someone I love who is in a lot of pain and suffering greatly. This is not my story to tell, so I will not share many details. But it was hard to hear the news, because it reminded me how powerless we are to help the people we love when they are in pain. The next few days will be touch and go and this news will weigh heavy on everything I do, but it has reminded me how important it is not to sweat the small stuff.


When all is said and done, so many of our trivial worries and issues are meaningless. When you look at life as a whole, and really ponder things like our purpose here, the meaning of our lives, the relationships that we build and the love that we share, nothing else should matter.


Today was a dark one as my mind flickered back and forth from the reality of my job and the work I love to do and the thoughts of this person.


I don't know how to feel.


Act III


After I got home from work and settled in a bit, Mairin asked if I could go to the store and grab a few things we had forgotten. Seeing that I am sick of driving and have done little exercise all summer, I decided to take my skateboard. I strapped on the headphones and made my way along the sidewalks.


Seeing that I was feeling a bit down all day, I thought about the music that makes me feel young and alive and the first band that came to mind was Jane’s Addiction. I hit play on Three Days and cruised to the store. Careful not to crash or hit a curb, I am still not a competent skater, I am feeling more comfortable on the board. Bend your knees. Lean forward. That’s it. Relax.


Act IV


Nothing. Numb. Watched some TV with the girls while Mairin unpacked and made dinner. I felt guilty again for not helping out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I must make an effort to insist on doing more of my share around the house.


I am in Skye’s room waiting for her to sleep and the night is quiet and young. I have little imagination for its possibilities. Perhaps some reading, a beer, TV and a yearning back to the dream I had last night- a bizarre Fellini inspired wonderland that had me terrified and laughing at every turn.


It’s hard to believe that we are all filled with such terror and wonder. We put on the cloths, brush the teeth, comb the hair, become the professionals, do the jobs, maintain society, but inside? Inside, there is so much more.


All of us with wings.
All of us with wings.
All of us with wings…