every poem is you, brooklyn

i swear this platform shakes

as wind blows over Mcdonald Ave

we wait, spitting into space,

level with tops of brick apartments, warehouses 

selling wooden doors and tombstones. 

here someone has written

Hiroshima ain't nothing compared

--never finished or maybe obscured 

by illegible tags, making this line's neat print

all the more glaring.

i reentered this city on my own,

a shrinking circle of daily listening,

expanding net of unknowns--

a best friend crying beside me

on a bench on a street near childhood.

we are grown and i don't know if she wants

to be held (i always do.)

the bodies around us keep moving

talking of how it smells like rain,

getting in and out of cars, carrying groceries,

talking loudly, adjusting their clothes.

i swear i have been here most my life--

eaten various flat breads, chickpeas and lentils.

in some shops, barbers, sign-painters, cooks, musicians

know my name and want me to join them for tea--

this is no secret city, not the first time

i've seen you- sang along

you look like a city but you feel like religion to me

oh!  i want to be able to leave you

and there is nowhere else to go.

i want you inside me,

whispering through my pores as i sleep.

i walked home talking loudly, holding my pants in place,

past curses and kisses, and it never did rain.

woke in a pool of sweat, an unseasonably hot morning.

today, the subway like so many times,

waiting above ground, swooshing around phlegm

in our cheeks before letting it go,

launching it into quivering space.

today like so many times

i want to know just what you did to me,

but i cannot see everything.

stay with me

my take on "stay with me" by sparlha swa.  

trying to build up some solo bass/ voice pieces these days.  

might be easier to hear the bass if you listen with headphones.  

good shit

i feel a bit bipolar lately, up and down about just about everything. but today it is 80 degrees! and so, a quickie-post, in honor of the gorgeous weather. as the title suggests here is a list of some good shit that i've seen/ heard recently:

"the business of being born"- a film about the birthing industry in the US with some incredible footage of home-births. it made me disgusted with US hospital birthing policies, and more than that it made me want to deliver and/ or have babies immediately!

i have been reading "White Teeth" by Zadie Smith. just wanted to say that i cannot put it down. the novel takes place in London and follows 3 generations of families from different backgrounds (white, Bangladeshi, and Jamaican.) this was Smith's debut novel in 2000 and the writing is incredible. she moves seamlessly from skillful plot that weaves between characters and years, hilarious and poignant character development, and spot-on critical study of identity politics (often without being clear which is which.) i am impressed and enamored!

check out this organization: Young Women's Empowerment Project (YWEP) based in Chicago. i heard a woman from YWEP speak and i was blown away by the depth and breadth of what they do and the fearlessly radical way that they do it. the woman who spoke actually said that her job is being phased out because the organization is in the process of becoming entirely youth run and operated! it's overwhelmingly exciting to hear of a group that seems so grassroots, sustainable, and solution-oriented.

i heard Irene Aebi sing, in person! if you don't know, Irene was Steve Lacy's wife and muse. her energy and presence were unbelievable. i'm not always into all that woo-woo stuff but you know sometimes you're in someone's presence and you can just feel the beauty of their spirit? being near Irene was like that. the group "ideal bread" performed some Lacy tunes, and then Irene sang some of Lacy's art songs with a soprano saxophonist and pianist. gorgeous. Steve Lacy's writing is humorous and painful, composed and messy. i was so happy to hear a few tunes i knew and a lot of new ones. one thing i love about Lacy's work is that his pieces are about something. always. he puts thought into his titles, dedications, text-settings. a true artist. sometimes i think jazz musicians are afraid of language. we should all take a tip from Lacy and partner with words, worship the world of letters while simultaneously using music- those sounds that get at what we could never speak or write. okay, enough. watch this:

satisfy this hungriness

after listening repeatedly to both nina simone and cat power take on this song, i decided to see what would happen if i tried.  it's rough around the edges but honestly, so was i in this moment.  posting this video in an effort to spill my creative juices a little more indeterminately these days.

staggering

blood hardened inside me.

here it is-- a clump, staggering

to the depths of toilet bowl.

almost went in after it, to know

how it clings to flesh between fingers,

slides off palms, but let it disappear.

enough.  this is what my body gives.

you can hear the sadness and wanting

in my voice but i am not afraid

or embarrassed.  this is how i came into the world.

a bloody mass.  so listen!

some songs just come out this way,

lapping at your heels and disposing of their own mess.

feed my body so much good food but

not exactly what it wants.  you cannot

hold anything in rubber between flesh

forever.  and when i let it all go, each drop

doesn't matter-- slithers and staggers

and stops, somewhere beyond my vision.