Pushcart Prize Nomination

I am grateful to the editors and readers of Qarrtsiluni for nominating “Islam for Americans” for a Pushcart Prize. Click on the poem title in the link and you will find it.

http://qarrtsiluni.tumblr.com/post/265097072/qarrtsilunis-2009-pushcart-nominations

Commute the corner (originally published in Unlikely 2.0 12/09) on

spiral graffiti new pink paint
middle of the street is not an outside plant

house has on a yield sign
going downhill backwards your lane

bright blue building operating a table saw
philodendrons are on a two lane street

they have taken over while still there
watching me pass by the corner

over new pink paint

middle of the street is a yield sign
spiral graffiti on your lane

while house has a table saw operating
building going downhill over backwards

watching me pass by new pink paint
bright blue philodendrons are not over the corner

while still there still there
they have taken an outside plant on a two lane street

there over the corner

going downhill a table saw
middle of the street is operating graffiti

spiral me backwards on a two lane street
pass by while over new pink paint

building philodendrons are not watching your lane
they have taken on an outside plant

still the bright blue corner house has a yield sign

Splash fish

~ for Joseph Ceravolo

O whitest white of
inky black space
whenever did it click
click click

I can see
smiling with your paper
shoes and some New York
cigarette in the
trees

was it something I said?
Or did you just land
like that Careful
provoke the wild

Splash fish, ah
Spring!

Desert Lines

we hear the wind coming at us

a small cloud hangs in the naked blue sky

we climb sharp rocks to look out higher

raven rustles its wings overhead

the wind rivers around boulders

we see the San Bernardinos 80 miles away

Joshua Trees guard the silence

coyote crosses near us and looks back

mountains crumble to boulders to rocks to sand

a huge carp shaped rock dreams of water

Pasadena

heavy crafted homes
low and squat
one hundred years
on oak tree
streets many were
blighted but now
there are mahogany
or deep red
doors heavy drapes
drawn against bright
sky windows shut
out hot desert
wind close purple
mountains shaded trails
beckon do they
notice the wide
porches are now
vacant the warm
arid climate too
warm and arid
my home town

Waiting at Burbank Airport for My Daughters

little Ben crawls under the gate barricade
Ben, you don’t have a boarding pass for that gate calls his dad
biggest sister grabs Ben up
and middle brother limbos under the rope
everyone laughs

earlier I was
randomly
selected for extra screening
patted down behind glass
maybe if my name
had been Ben

Samurai

from Japan
my son texts:
Hey mom,
I heard The Clash playing
in a Starbucks this morning
and I thought of you.
I bought a Bush Is Not My President
t-shirt yesterday
and I visited Hiroshima
and cried for three hours.
I’ll be home soon.

I asked him had he heard
of Mishima the writer and poet.
Mishima committed seppuku
when the country demonized him
for training young men
to be Samurai long after WWII.

Mishima and I
have some things in common.

No Running

I went to the bank
I stood in line and looked at myself in the security camera
a man ran into the bank
everyone turned to look at him
he ran to the little table that holds deposit slips
he got a deposit slip
he ran to the drinking fountain across the room
he got a drink of water
he ran over to the information table
he got a lollipop out of the bowl
he ran a circle around the line of people waiting, staring at him
he ran outside

I went to the library
a woman ran in the door
she ran through the lobby
past the computers
the librarians were aghast
she ran around in the magazine room
she knocked down a few books in the fiction section
a few people looked up from their reading, amused
she ran out the door

I went to Jiffy Lube
I checked in with the guys outside
I went into the waiting room that smells like oil and coffee
I got a cup of coffee with powdered creamer
a man came in
he picked up a magazine
he sat on a chair across from me
he turned upside down and had his feet sticking up
and his head on the floor
they called my name to get my car
I went home

Do Not Repeat

Do Not Repeat

she told me she femme fatale in lowness
with sonar in science fiction
so she DNA’d you
you amaryllis goodly
abating wormwood
yet she war danced a new carbine every year
wanted a four thoughtless squadron footed homophone
but you western amazon worrier
nubile she says
you have donned well forbearance yourself
and she has loud chemical surcharge on
the elaborate yeast oligarchy
the onlooker that is so matrilineal
she can’t understand whorls
now she needs to upholster the supreme peahen
because you boundary the beachside condom
before the otiose house detective soldiers
so you muster up monition
and sheer neglect the inconceivable

exploding

I am gonna get in my car and
drive to the Space Needle
scream over some edge
climb up 605 feet
and rapel down
fast

I’m gonna fly
to Lake Chelan
swim 50 miles to Stehekin
sleep on the beach
in the snow

hitchhike to the Olympic Peninsula
walk to Tubal Cain
leave food outside my tent
wait for bears

while I’m there
I may as well get to Kalaloch
watch for Grey Whales
climb on their backs
submerge

then I’ll walk the Pacific Crest Trail
all 2650 miles of it barefoot
carrying only a blanket
some smoked salmon

and a picture
of you