wish you were here

Cross your fingers I don’t completely crap myself in front of KRS-One tomorrow.

Yeah, and I think I’m starting to like Exploding Hearts.

Dammit, why can’t I have more hours to get shit done!

I guess I said the wrong thing through the grapevine. A quiet night at home hasn’t been quieter.

Holy shit, kids.

So I got the call today from Sean– who I owe, like, my firstborn to for this– that Nakachi, Scott, Sean, and myself are all headed to L.A. on Wednesday to be part of a spoken word show opening up for KRS-One.

Boogie Down Productions. Hip-hop legend. This gig is huge for us. I mean, I don’t know what else to say except shit, I have to go practice now.

I don’t want to jinx it, and I’ll get it confirmed tomorrow, but big tings a gwan.

There may be a trip to L.A. in my near future.

I have no idea when I’m going to feel caught up. Maybe after I gorge on some tryptophan on Thursday night.

We poets, even if it means converting, like, one person to our cause, will brave just about anything. Especially in Vegas, where it’s difficult to get anybody to pay attention to anything. At all. Whatsoever.

I guess when it’s a cause, it changes the audience, too. Last night I was asked to host a poetry feature at Ladyfest. Now, I may not be doing poetry for a living, but I think I’ve performed at enough places to say I’m a little more of a professional at it than your average reader of poetry. If I’m putting an event together, and when I have someone who is going to be featuring for me, I give them as much information as I possibly can. I want to make sure everything’s clear: what time they’re starting, what time they should be there, what kind of audience is going to be there, etc. You know, things you should know well in advance.

I didn’t get told our part of the show was going to start at 11 o’clock until, oh, an hour until I’m supposed to be there.

Now, I don’t know if this is a product of bad communication, bad organization, bad timing, or bad hearing, because I didn’t hear anything about no 11 o’clock until right before I got there. Did I mention it was fucking freezing last night? I don’t know if I did. And, you know, poets tend to be late-night kind of people, we usually get out when the sun goes down. But really. Waiting around for 3 hours in the cold, surrounded by people we don’t know, plus some of the poets having to get up early for work in the morning? Um, right. No.

We got bumped up to 9. It went well. The audience was paying attention. The poets stuck it out and gave great performances. We had a girl come up to us and ask about the other readings in town.

Seriously, though. 3 hours on a 40-degree night in the desert? Er, no. This is why we have poetry readings inside, thanks.

It is officially freezing in this town.

I suppose I should post new poetry, eh?

until

let’s run away
let’s let the storm clouds
guide us over the highways
let’s let the days be
one color
let’s leave the sun to hide
for awhile
and when she decides to return
let’s stand in her smile
smiling like we were long lost lovers
I’m the mermaid
and you’re the sailor
throwing bottles with messages off the ship
and I’ve returned
with a necklace made of glass
and your name
written on my fingers
and my hands will give you a poem
you can read the lines on them
by kissing my palms
let’s transform ourselves
into our ancestors: the stars
so that when we die
we will nova into the memory
our children draw on their hearts
let’s run
until our feet disappear
and we float like dandelion seeds
into a perfect sky
and we will chase each other
until the ground has found us
and we grow to give the world
more wishes
let’s be each other’s wishes
so we can dream
of more wishes
let’s stop naming things
so we can let them be
like you
or me
or he
or she
or the upturned eyes of our lovers
when we know the sky
to which we’ll return
let’s live
so that life won’t give up on us
let’s make rockstar babies
that tutor illiterate children
so they can tell their own stories
let’s be chance
for those who don’t have them
let’s run
until every place becomes home
and the lives we touch
become comfortable rooms
to walk into on this place we live
and you could be my home
so let’s build
so we can finally make it
out of the Milky Way
and we only have to pray
that more stars will be born
so we all become family
let’s be imperfect
so we can let the wind guide us
let’s run
run so that wherever I go
that’s where you are
run
because the horizon never ends
and the sun always smiles
on someone
somewhere
run
until the world goes so out of focus
that it comes back into focus again
run
because the opened arms
are the gates to heaven
because you have to
because you want to
because if we didn’t
we couldn’t feel our hearts
beating in our chests
let’s run
and never stop running
because life never stops
and at the end is love
to take you to rest

I can’t sleep. Too much going on in the noggin.

It’s strange, but with my laptop being in the shop since Thursday afternoon, I feel so outside of everything. Or maybe I just feel outside of everything at work. Today my day was spent reinstalling all my old programs. I’ve been thinking about all the stuff I have to get started on at work tomorrow.

Three horoscope-y things: Mercury (my ruling planet) is in retrograde, meaning that things are moving backwards emotionally for just about everybody; there was a full moon (dubbed a “mourning moon” on my calendar) tonight; and there’s a meteor shower this weekend. Not only do I feel completely removed from thinking right, I feel like everybody’s acting… god, not contrary, necessarily, but not like themselves. Myself included in that. My anger is sharper these days.

There’s something that’s making my eye swell up, and I wish I could tell you what it is, since it’s not really pink eye, and not really a sty. I feel like I’ve got a lazy eye like Thom Yorke or something.

Cutting my hair felt great. I can’t stop messing with it now. I like being able to run my fingers through it and it stays curly and sticking up.

My brother is living with me now, and I haven’t co-habitated with him since I was 14. It’s not too bad, until he feels the need to comment on my bad habits, bad habits I already have a running dialogue in my head about. Otherwise, it’s been nice– we’ve had a couple of truly good kitchen conversations in the past couple of weeks. And it’s been nice to have the nephews over once in awhile.

At some point, I will get to bed at a responsible time.