and shouting under a starless sky
and shouting under a starless sky
Saturday August 24, 2019
Past in Present
I prayed to the sweet in my finger prints,
the gold that has been found in all the touching.
I thanked the god that had done the speaking.
I knelt down to the alter of my former self: Great Teacher.
Oh how I wept.
How there was a deep whisper.
But how loud.
But how I listened.
The gentle nudge of spirit,
the family of cells storing memory in my dreams and letting me remember.
Oh how I remember.
The way a crowd would bring out my inner coward,
how I would ask to start over.
And Teacher Self bathed in love now,
in abundance now, I needed you as you were then.
I needed you exactly as you were.
Tuesday August 20, 2019
Quote by Joseph Zinker
i throw my hands into the muck
praise be i have muck to touch
and if i touch the much with my
hands then i will not need to shit
talk any of my friends or any of
the people i say i’d never be
friends with and why do i ever do
that when my life is good, really
good, do i think it’s funny or do
i think my good luck might be
running out and this might be
the end of the road, heard it
here first i am back in the muck…
i throw my brush into the muck
and paint a horrendous image
of beauty the way i see it in my
head and i don’t stop until the
whole canvas is brown and ripped
i thrust this much and that until
i am fully fledged and humbled
like i must be if i am to create art
or if i want to be alive among
humans and give art that comes
from the knowing that we are
so similar that this is an extension
of everything, that you and me
are either both clean, or both
in the muck even if it’s not the
Saturday August 17, 2019
OK I give you my whole heart and expect nothing in return
even if now I am without a whole heart and don’t I need
one of those?
I remember E.R saying that as soon as she gets any money
she gives it away because holding it means she doesn’t
believe she will ever have any more and giving it away
when she has it makes sense because it was never hers to
begin with. Not fully. It belongs, she says, to the whole
So do I give my whole heart to the whole world in exchange
for nothing and
hope believe that what I need will come to me? As if we might all give our whole hearts to the whole world and then take a tiny piece from every heart out there floating until they fill the empty space in our souls, the one where our own hearts used to live?
In the act of giving I am making space to receive and in the act
of receiving, I am giving someone else the gift of their giving.
I do not give all my money away but I do not know if that is the
most useful thing I can give right now. The most useful thing
I can give right now is my whole heart. If we are all out there
grasping at bits, then I must give my whole heart freely so there
are more pieces out there to hold.
Sunday May 5, 2019
I do not like this. Stage fighting shouldn’t scare me to the point of distraction, nor remove me for being too fake. Who is in charge of the execution? Is it lack of fear, is it abundance of trust?
That’s what I don’t like about it. The absence of trust in front of all of us like it wasn’t wholly necessary. Good lighting sneaks up on you as the container for the room and if it’s good you won’t notice and if you don’t notice, then you’re in the moment, on the ride, following the thread, chasing the sequence because it becomes your only desire. Good stage fighting is the same. It is part of the story, it aids, it allows. If you do not trust and you show me this I will lose my light. I will watch as the part of me that wanted to join you, withers, pulling me out. It’s not my job to keep the thing together, only to follow it, to go with you, to be where you are. And where are you? What is the thing holding you away from this bravery? Why are you on stage in front of me if you left it at home this time? I want so many things but I want this now because I know the feeling. I know it so deep. I want to be where you are.
Tuesday April 3, 2018
From a storefront on West Broadway
On the T-shirts that Zia Nancy brought back
from Atlantic City were birds wearing sunglasses
Nothing is cooler than a bird wearing sunglasses
We were grateful for the oversized and bright
we did not know then how to ask for something better
How to wish we could be lucky enough for more
We were lucky enough then with two kisses and
a chili pepper
thrust into our hands like the lesson was in the
small bravery of turning our tongues on fire
The picture says a thousand things
Not including all of the comments made by
all the cool birds wearing sunglasses
on our T-shirts brought back from Atlantic City
We were built by each other’s dedication to being there
A wall of neon cousins smiling while
Michael cries into his birthday cake
Friday January 26, 2018
The Mercy Seat
Now that we’ve changed
the rules I don’t cry as much.
As if my face can tell
you how I feel without
losing any water without
causing a drought somewhere
else deep down near the well of me
Now the well of me is full
and happy looks like patience
or a bucket
or forgiveness on the conveyor belt
switched on at high speed
You are coaching and playing
at the same time sometimes
and this is a rule you
have always known to follow
I can learn from this
I can play better too
Tuesday February 23, 2016 at the VPL
Been fucking trying to leave it at home. Been fucking trying not to swear anymore either but as you can see, things have been a little bit rough these days. My asshole of a manager has decided that not only are we no longer allowed on our phones during work hours, but now we have to write a fucking positive message about the “team” each night before AND AFTER our shift. FUCK. How do you not swear when your life is a complete fucking joke? Tad, his fucking name is TAD. And Fucking TAD has so many fucking brilliant ideas for community building, such as embodying bullshit in the most unappealing human way this century has ever seen, or for making us walk through the back doors before we sign our lives away for 4-8 hours in a “light” and “baggage-free” way. Fucking Tad likes to tell me, “Leave your bad attitude at the door, Tegan, this place is a “frown-free” zone!” I want to fucking punch him with a fork. In the throat. Repeatedly. Until fucking forever and ever Amen.
Monday February 22, 2016
I am having a party
putting up balloons
decorating the whole house with streamers
to celebrate the journey
to congratulate for not giving up
giving away loot bags at the end of the night
filled with moments of strength
examples of accepting imperfection
some vulnerability tossed in for good measure
I am inviting all my past selves
Like a reunion
I will tell them
DRESS CODE IN EFFECT
And they will show up
wearing their sorrys
and their lessons
on their sleeves
carrying abundance and respect
in each jean pocket
I am saying farewell to fear
Sending her off on vacation
Killing three birds with one stone
A goodbye party for that which no longer serves me
And a good excuse to celebrate
Because the hill was high
but I’ve climbed it
Tuesday, December 22, 2015 at R Squared Cafe
Overheard on Gerrard St.
the sun peeks and i am reminded of the
grandmothers in the congo raising their grandchildren
girls and boys a generation removed
the wedge of hunger and dis
i buy a pair of expensive boots i can’t
and wear them and then they hurt my feet
my calf engaged more muscle more fire more
want more more more
a kiss tattooed on a neck
arms overflowing with
the saccharine aftertaste of
i find a card from my father’s mother
“merry christmas sasha!
i hope this finds you well.”
Sunday, October 25, 2015 at the Writer’s Fest Volunteer Lounge
from a write up about Rich Shapero
The valet parked my car this morning and made me wish I had walked. Maybe that will be the last time.Lately I’ve been uncomfortable with paying someone to do something that I can do myself. I was brought up differently. My father lived for the royalty of things. Every special occasion was catered exquisitely. The tables were always covered in silks and golds and exotic fruit and cheese. My father was a simple man, but he loved abundance. I learned from him that if it’s between time or money, to choose time. He used to tell me that my time was worth a thousandfold the amount I would have to pay for it. I never really saw what he meant because we often payed someone else, and as a result were not only abundant in lavishness, but in dispensable time. I never had to want more time. I didn’t know how to appreciate it when I was young, even though he was trying to show me. When he died I noticed myself living like him more and more. I’d pay for private massages, for dinners to be delivered, for my laundry to be folded.
Friday May 1, 2015
from a vintage matchbook
Daddy and little girl
Playing with new tricycle and puppy
Good good man
And the ball bouncing one two three
Happiness until the air runs out
Mommy comes with belly full of baby new
Big sister runs and jumps
Daddy pushes little girl on swing
Laughing and family growing
Tell me when you get cold!
Mommy and puppy new keep their watchful eyes open
Little girl dragging tricycle along
Can’t ride it if you don’t get back on!
Daddy kneels down next to little girl
I’m right beside you, don’t be afraid.
Mommy and belly baby new, Daddy and little girl smile