jails

reading about the guy
who 65 year sentence was
pardoned in one state
who then moved to another
and killed 4 cops
or the ones who get released
just to murder weeks later
on and on it goes
the jails and prisons overflow
people are mean and crazy
and it makes me wonder
what did the indians do in the old days?

tribes were somewhat small
maybe a thousand or two
and they depended on each member
contributing to the whole community
everybody having roles
hunters, warriors,
medicine men
women doing most of the work
chopping wood
setting up camp
cooking
skinning hides
making clothes and pots
grammas watching grandchildren
youth modeling adult behaviors
and what if somebody
acted bad?
did something that was understood taboo?
frequently ostracized
kicked out of the tribe
set to wander among wolves and
enemy tribes that could enslave them
or if they did something really bad
maybe beat them to death
done deal
their were no jails
but mainly there were few that every
acted bad
they would be shamed
values and morals of the village were strong
in order for the whole to survive
each human important
but now
people act independently
looking out for only themselves
greed sets in
taking money and lives from each other
'sad sad' as my grandmother would say
as the jails fill with indians too.

boomerang kids

they call this generation
boomerang kids
1 in 7 grown kids returning
to the parent's home
maybe while they go to college
maybe when they lose their jobs
maybe when new marriages fail
and now i find my daughter
with her 3 year old
sleeping on an air mattress
in the living room
of my small 1 bedroom apartment

today i ate my cereal
on my bed and didn't cook bacon
as my kitchen is where
their sleeping heads lay
i didn't watch the morning news
as that is where
their feet and clothes boxes are

today i will see about getting
wireless internet
so she can do job searches
on friday when i get paid
we will go grocery shopping
so she can pick foods she likes
maybe next week i will make
a doctor's appointment
to get valium my chill-pills
anticipating frayed nerves
though i love them both
i'm used to my oneness with myself.

hugs

he sat on a rock
in golden gate park
holding a sign that read
'free hugs'
hundreds nay thousands
of people looked
as they walked by
like maybe the crud from
his dreadlocks might
jump on them during
the exchange
like the dirt from his jacket
would smear their
patagonia windbreakers
like the small surge of
body energy might
take something away
rather than give it to them
but the hippy girls
surrounded him in a
joyous group hug
squeals and kisses too
i'm glad
cause hey
i didn't want to hug him either.

hospitals

i know them pretty well
better than funeral homes
i have seen many tubes and iv's
coarse woven sheets and thick pillows
i know about the little side table
that hold toothbrushes and tiny black combs
if you don't use them
you will still get charged
so either use them
or take them
cause you get charged
either way

i know about the bed
which if you crank this
or step on this power button
will make the bed rise
and sit up
or raise the legs
the bed turning into
letters: w L v _
okay the last one
wasn't a letter
they are supposed to
make you comfortable
plus the tv remote
or the help me fucking help
me nurses button
or sometimes you get to push
your own morphine drip button
push jane push
push dick push

i've watched the monitors
so many times
the heart rate
the-i-don't-know-the pulse
is that different from the heart?
the breathing
the bells and whistles that go off
if you dip below the
accepted rates
or put a kink in your tube

i like the dry erase boards
when the nurses actually bother
to write in when they are on shift
some don't bother
i like the food
& that you can have popsicles & juice
if you are the caregiver
parent child
because you're loved one
can't have anything
except what comes in that drip bag

i always have a journal
of visitors that sign in
of the daily prognosis
these can be kept to remind
you or me of
that dream state
of hospitalization
of trauma and yes
terror not spoken not thought of
consciously denied
kept in this dream state
and not until 'the journal'
is looked at years later
is the horror apparent
this is a very
fucked up situation.

make it go away

when the divorce is final
when debts are settled
when the last court appearance
can be done over the phone
so you are not subjected to
his loathsome person
his hateful eyes
his loud growling voice
and even though you got
nothing from the settlement
except your own attorney bills
and the shirt on your back
be grateful
you at least got out
with your life
cause it just as easily
could have gone that way
and now
the ink has dried
and tomorrow is a new day
but how can you erase
'it' from your memory
i know i know
time and alcohol
and don't even try to
placate yourself with
remembering only the good times
just make it all go away
cheers
and make it a double.

luck

as you walk through the casino
your eyes scanning
you stop
listen
and decide from the slot machine
cacophony
that 'that' machine
is 'the one'
the one that will turn your luck
from poor to rich
raining coins from it's
loose slots mouth
your optimism palpable
later i find you
at the bar with a cold beer
and not much else to show
for this week's paycheck
'hey' you say
'there's still next week'
and wink and smile.

i like listening to motown

particularly when i'm sitting at the computer
at work
and the warm afternoon makes me lazy
and the glare of the computer screen
makes my eyes tired
quietly blasting the speakers
in my direction
trying to keep it from rolling
down the hallway
to other worker offices
i bob my head in time
to the beat of al green
dianna ross
and my forever favorite
barry white
and i dance while sitting down
it makes me feel like
i'm cool
sometimes i even
snap my fingers
yeah i'm old school.