"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



Fire on the subway   Angry man not un-handsome  in the 7/11

BUY ME THIS!    He screams   +shoves cold dosas in my face

I know then that Kansas is just a metaphor   Then stumble onto

Yonge St.   Bright sun  + a brisk wind ricochet  Wishing my clothes

weren’t so breezy +synthetic  A little wool would go a long way today

As would a sharp pair of shears to cut the umbilical cord




I take a $14 cab 7 blocks  +arrive at  CANNABO-LAND  where I enter a

seedy room with 23 chairs  a Jumbotron  +a wan man with confusing

eye contact   Kill me?  Kiss me?  Do me?   I scrunch against the wall  +

wait for my name to be called   There is green matter all over the Brita


Offering greying water to Cannabis seekers



the stained sign says   Oh  one episode  I guess I’m good!   You see  I believe

my entire family  +current husband  to be figments   As C.G. Jung once said:

There is as much chance of your dreams being real


As the person beside you


These days I contemplate the  deep state  on many a night at 4 a.m.  as I lay

awake in a late life fugue    Stormy is a  deep state  operative   And this gracious

porn star will bring down the baboon ruler of the free world  More power to her

By 5:12 a.m. I chase fears of a mountainous city  6,402 miles above sea level   My

latest escape fantasy   But will I need an oxygen mask?


I have always been high maintenance


Finally my name is called  +a man who looks like a NARC  takes me to a room

away from the bad Hip Hop + light erotica on the Jumbotron  I will need more

than Cannabis to recover from this experience  Perhaps he is from the deep state 

Eyes red-rimmed +mystic   I am so scared that I neglect to mention the narcotic I

used for sleep   My urine sample does not lie    Maybe you forgot? 


He winks


I prostrate myself before these ghouls  One a young doctor (?)  wearing a

stethoscope + Fred Perry tee  He tells me not to worry about paranoia  as he

speaks in hushed tones   Eyes riveted to the door   I was once a girl upon whom

butterflies landed   Now the magic will be kept alive by a plant   I leave with a

urine stained script   Doctor’s hands a tad shaky   Old warhorse back on city

streets  Unhinged  Corporeality tattered


Come Get Me Fertile Spring!





Spring  2018  …the Resurrection close at too the Exodus…







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