I was back in the Mission late Saturday evening. This is my old neighborhood and I miss it; the hot dog vendors and homeless sleeping under a blanket of pigeons at Bart, the bodegas and smoke shops, the taquerias and discount clothes stores. I passed bars, nearly wanting to go in, but I promised myself …
Hope… the thing with Feathers
I've been holding a notebook full of poems but haven't been able to read any yet. The most important part of my writing process is running new material before an audience. Its not always enough to just read it aloud for myself (though that always helps) But part of the reason to create anything is …
Poems Are Happening
April being National Poetry Month... But I'm not tripping. Wasn't even intending to attempt a 2014 poem a day for 30 days challenge... But its happening anyway. The last poem I posted, A Small White Bottle, triggered a shower of poems and writing over the last several days. A pleasant surprise. I re-wrote S.W.B. which …
A Small, White Bottle
I hadn't seen her in more than 20 years. I had to ask for a hug. She paused, as to think: Did I pack one? She looked the same; her body neither overstuffed nor sickly. Her hair is different. Long & sinuous. And she's still sexy. Over breakfast, the great shifting of gears of family …
Elements
Dear ____ I was about to email this to you, but stopped myself, not certain if you really wanted it. But I did. After leaving your place the other night, (thank you for the cake) I realized I wanted and needed to write more. My heart needed it. So I began looking for elements. For …
A Brief Conversation On Slam
Read this brief on point essay from 2008 about poetry slam. I’m at work, bored and found myself conversing with the article in my head. “The oral traditions of poetry are in trouble, and performers like this are to blame, performers who believe that as long as words are being performed, they don't have to …
O.P.P.
OTHER PEOPLE'S POETRY, YO!: Take a poem you like. Delete every other line. Write an original line to replace what you've erased. Now erase all that remains of the original poem. Re-write what's left. That's a dope prompt. I tried it yesterday and kinda liked what came out. I almost printed it here, but I …
The Last Haul
my grandfather was my first employer. he worked as a landscaper and yard man for home owners along the Oakland Hills Piedmont, Berkeley. I was with him every summer between late grade school and Jr high. his drove a muscular Ford truck carpeted with spilled malts and holes candy wrappers, Styrofoam bowls for Big Macs. …
The Two Oceans
One Year Ago: I stood on San Francisco's Ocean Beach, hours early to a wedding of a friend. I was alone and staring out into the expanse of the sea. It was between storms, the clouds rolled as if being poured into the sky. This was the first time I'd seen two different oceans within …
A Tale Of Two Readings
The first reading was for a fundraiser for Breast Cancer. My friend from high school emailed a while back asking if I’d participate. I immediately said yes before I thought—exactly what am I supposed to say to a room full of women about breast cancer?? What kind of audience is this?? But my heart kept …
The Dirty Rat 