Friday, September 17, 2010

minutiae: B Sic

minutiae: B Sic: "I want to start an AA meeting called B Sic which stands for Being Sober is Cool but I am not sure that it really is or whether any of that a..."

Thursday, September 16, 2010

B Sic

I want to start an AA meeting called B Sic
which stands for Being Sober is Cool
but I am not sure that it really is
or whether any of that actually matters at all.

It is possible to have your heart ripped out of your chest
beating pumping beautifully bloody
and alive
and then, through the immaculate beauty of sorrow,
have it handed back to you
in tact
effortlessly free
and re-covered.

Being rescued is lovely
all these little islands of despair
where the ship of some larger horror shows you your grace.

I thank god every day for showing up inside of you
and reminding me
that we are the same.

I have not seen my boys since 8:23 this morning -
when I watched them walk in a single-file line
into the school house.

I hit AA and recovery and belligerence and faith HARD today
squirreled it all up
inside a cupcake
with a friend
on a street
in LA.

All I am saying is that she is beautiful
those newly seeing eyes
all green and hazel and glorious.
We sat side by side and were thankful
to know each other
and be a friend.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

i am in love.
there is no more meaningful way to say this.
he comes home with his sweater on inside-out
smelling like cigars
calling me chuchi.
i want to open the door and say
but instead i open it
give a kiss far from the lips
giggle at the tag on the outside
and say nothing.
we carry the boys to their beds.
we yawn.

i met a man from cambodia today at Miss Donuts.
he liked my blond hair.
The Red Carpet he mentiond. America.
8 Years in America and he has his own business.
The American Dream.

But always working.

I want to go back to not capitalizing.
so i do.
thinking i will invite him to dinner sometime. to yom kippur or christmas or kwanza or tea.

my boys went crazy for him. this smile that went on and on for miles.

they asked to be his friend. yes. he said. yes. i am happy your to be a friend. what? huh? i am happy -
i understood every single sentence he spoke today. and even the ones that he did not utter.

there is nothing like los angeles.
i am telling you.
there is a miracle here - ever uncovering itself.

there is some kind of bizarre and honest hope.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

lost angels

and so i suppose we are.
living here amidst the lights and the traffic and the busy buzzing bumbles.
the quiet rage.
the sparrow.
i want to reach out through my windows and touch the walkers.
people huddled over their bags at the bus stop.
an old man with no cane on the sidewalk leaning east.
inside the heart of every person
is a riotous knowing.
a belonging to something unspeakably grand
yet still....unspeakable.
i do not look far for god -
brooding in gray eyes on sun-beaten faces
or hurried whistles chasing a bus
or you.