Frank and Willow #3

  (Photo origin unknown)
We met on a balcony,during a party,Frank and I. I was struggling with drinks with my friend Judy.Frank was watching Leo and Tony hang the lights.Arguing all the while. And then walked over in his very casual way,and began helping me. I however argued with him.Until we talked about the war. And other things. We finally left and he took me to a place the war hadn’t reached quite yet. An artist by the name of Picasso  had a showing in town. At a collectors house. Even though his work was banned.We went-and we drank. 

I couldn’t tell you much else…

I accused Frank of being too American.He was late for everything. Late for the war. Late for the dance. And I was engaged. I was hard headed. Furious. You had to be back then. Otherwise the Sharks would eat you alive. 

But we kept seeing each other.until the days grew into weeks. And we didn’t talk about the war.We didn’t talk about the past. We talked only of the future. And eventually. Paris was free again. And the war had ended. And we were still together. The years-turned into decades.But when I look back. I think of those lights and that party. That night. 

I never knew what he did…not exactly. We didn’t talk of that. We were living in it. We survived by talking of the future.that sustained us. He’s the reason I’m here today. 

Willow looked out the window.Then slowly rising from her chair. She looked at the girl from the paper writing every word down. “They don’t make them like that,not anymore.when the darkness comes,we become light,even for each other.everyone deserves great sex,and great love,great companionship.remember that.Its what we do this for. We make art out of it. But others make war.

Sara closed her note pad. Tried hard to swallow. “Wow that’s some story,Mrs Grey.” She had everything she could think of. Her story. Some photographs. She got up from the couch. “Thank you so much for sharing this.Really.” 

Willow only smiled. “Hey I was young once. And a journalist,like you. I wanted the story. Now I am the story. It’s just the circle.” 



It’s been two years
Since my father died
Just this month …

You don’t think about
Time passing
About growing up
Or about how everything
Is different now
You don’t think about him
Whenever old men
Harass young women
And you take them outside
And get in their face
You don’t
Think about all the driving lessons
When you almost wrecked your car
Or how you finally
Learned how to write
Without being angry
You don’t think
Everything just levels
And time moves
And you really start to live
Understanding that
We all are flawed

For November

It’s here
I just got Amanda Palmer’s New book

And I could not
Be more excited
Well,except for that one time
When I bought a first edition
Of the godfather but that was different
This is a signed copy
November is going to be great
And if you don’t read
You can always try out this gem


(We’re almost to the weekend guys
Hang in there)
Art more
What else is there?


IMG_5094.JPG(origin unknown)

Keep watching
For a sign
As darkness
Stretches across
The sky
Maybe we are all
Out of time
And hey
Can we keep it together
Our voices are
Getting really low
The world on fire
Are you afraid?
Losing your faith
At the marching
In the street

Hear the knocking
At the door
Shackled to the wall

So much and many reasons
How will you ever find
The line

So hey
hope isn’t here
At all
Give me just
A little more
Come on across the line

House of mirrors

We’ve got
A new revolution
We’ve got a world
Full of open minds
We’ve got stellar adds
“All you need is hand”
Standing on the edge of Time

I talked to God
About our new separation
Living off the edge
Of our vitality
It’s pushing through the roof
All of our energy

That frozen panic
We’re a house
Of mirrors
Out in the street
Covered with
With self help
Adds and pornography

I talked to Satan
About our new philosophy
He just looked at me

When was the last time
You touched the face of God
When you saw
The phases of the moon
In her eyes
Did you ever
Find her secrets
Did you ever take the time
When was the last time
You felt the colours of
The sunrise
Through her skin
And got intoxicated
From the edge of her lips
Have you felt the earth
Moving through her
Anchored souls
Moving with the tide
Have you ever left
Your body
Have you ever lost
Your mind

Origin (unknown)

Things Falling Apart (Karen part 3)

things falling apartIMG_4874-1.JPG
Origin: Antoine Cordet – acrylic and marker on canvas

I’m walking a hallway
It’s polished tiles
The air sanitized
Burning my nose
I’m looking for a number…

I don’t think anyone really remembers
The exact moment they went mad
They just wake up
Inside a nightmare
And they can’t make it stop
I think
time has a way
Of subtly changing things
On us and then suddenly
Everything is different

I wish I could tell you it was
But it wasn’t
It was only heartbreaking
And terrifying
Acting hysterical
If you walked in
Like you were pulling her out of a deep sleep
That she didn’t realize
Was sleep at all

the house
At night grew worse
With the feeling that something
Was staring at you from across the room
shadows of figures
On the staircase
And in the hallway
The messages in her phone
Whenever she tried to leave
But the worst
The worst
The sound of women screaming
Every night
At 3am

Moms new lover
We soon discovered
Died in 1992
After murdering his wife
And sister in law
And then hanging himself from the staircase

So here I am
I’m walking a hallway
looking for a number
I open the door
Mom is sitting at a window
Watching the ocean
Drawing her name
With her fingers
On the glass