Posted in Almost Dorothy, Angel, The Mother

Ma: The Healer & The Destroyer

Sometimes ma is glowing in her fruity apron. Sometimes she is sad and sometimes she is a glowing lizard on a bed of velvet roses. Sometimes she is angry and sometimes she is awake when she is asleep. Sometimes she sleeps when she is alive and dead.

Sometimes ma is aware of her biceps and that she is the anti-Christ. Sometimes she is aware she is a vampire annihilating the anti-bodies that enter her canvas. Sometimes she is the quotient and the quadrangle triangulating the quadraphonic sound of blue whales. Sometimes she is a whale and the woman between me and her and sometimes she is the man between me and him. Sometimes she’s a clown.

Sometimes I know what makes ma unhappy and filled with darkness because it’s the same thing that makes me unhappy and filled with darkness. Sometimes I curse the healers who enter our home and try to destroy us with their crystals and incense. Sometimes I destroy the curses that heal us after the healers who have come to destroy us heal the room of wounds. Sometimes I curse the curses who heal the hell out of us for the hell of it because they don’t know what the hell they’re talking about when ma’s heart goes boom boom boom.

Sometimes I walk silently through the house of healers and destroyers, ma and me, and tell each room “I’m sorry” for our trespasses and transience. In sequence. In solemnity and solace. In slippers. In every room, a ghost wants to say “I’m sorry”, but the ghosts are rouses.

Sometimes I walk silently where angel once roamed the surface of the house where ma fears to tread even in her best Jacqueline Smith dress. Sometimes I am too much for ma and she is too much for me just like she was too much for angel and his medicine chest of chests. Sometimes I am too much and never enough even though I know I am a button and ma is a shoe.

Sometimes the knowledge of this differential is enough to heal the equations of the world, the wounds in the room of curses and moans. Sometimes the knowledge of this is forgiveness and sometimes it’s not. Sometimes this knowledge is just knowledge to note the difference between two unknowns. Between healing and destroying. Between practice and partition. Between ma and me. Freud and Jung. The curses between us were promises.

Posted in Almost Dorothy

Shiny Toy Shoes

“Earth below us drifting, falling, floating weightless, calling, calling home. Across the stratosphere a final message: give my [ma] my love then nothing more.” –Peter Schilling

I’m thankful for ma.

I’m thankful for her decision to go vegetarian this holiday.

I’m thankful for water.

I’m thankful for soap.

I’m thankful for floating and my plastic wrap.

I’m thankful for pancakes and turtles, rocks and sea grass.

I’m thankful for differential calculus and graphic novels.

I’m thankful for the blue bird, the red bird, the green and yellow bird, the white and black bird, and the gray ones too.

I’m thankful for Wonder Woman, her comforter and the Holy Spirit’s ruby red glittery shoes.

I’m thankful for NOH8 and the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

I’m thankful for Snoopy and Charlie Brown, Charlie’s Angels and the Killing Moon too.

I’m thankful for silence and music, especially music.

I’m thankful for candied yams and sweet potato pie and toes.

I’m thankful for gravity and convection.

I’m thankful for Good Will Industries and Good Will Hunting.

I’m thankful for almost every thing that ends in ing–dreaming, breathing, swimming, singing, loving, blinking.

I’m thankful for Rollerblades and the lizard sunbathing on the lawn chair.

I’m thankful for the almost in all of us and the wholeness in one.

I’m thankful for spell check and, to be honest, fried chicken too.

I’m thankful for the Tin Man and mangoes.

I’m thankful for feedback and French Fries.

I’m thankful for the return of Bobo the Mutt and Amanda Bernstein (the B is Silent) too.

I’m thankful for stars and their guidance at night.

I’m thankful for night and knights and shining armor.

I’m thankful for amor, Almodovar, and troubadours.

I’m thankful for Thursday and every word that ends in day.

I’m thankful for translation software.

I’m thankful for the red shoes that have been with me and will be with me every step I take.

I’m thankful for ma’s faux turkey stuffed with candied yams and sweet potato pie.

I’m thankful for my wardrobe and luggage and all the things that exist or will exist in space, time and memory.

I’m thankful for Goldfrapp and Frappuccinos.

For happiness.

For sadness.

For love and hate.

Anger and peace.

The end and the beginning and the stuffing in between.

I’m thankful for Yemen, freedom from dictatorship, and the dictatorship of freedom (Yemen’s President Resigns).

I’m thankful for Youtube, WordPress and Facebook.

I’m thankful for Peter Schilling and Shiny Toy Guns.

Plants and oxygen too!

And especially the moon.

Almost Dorothy A-float | Photo by Neil de la Flor