I built a city in the desert.
Lithium and plastic and dry cellulose.
Autonomous flying cars.
Drone-delivered impossible everything,
Nourishing our body-positive bodies.
Streaming, bingeable Obama-produced documentaries
In every remote classroom.

There was even a monorail.

on the corner
of Casino Center and Colorado with the studded thongs and the leashes around their slim necks and those high- waisted hot-pants hiked up to that sinched waist terrified by the possibility of beauty, while forgetting what
it might
be
...slowly
losing
life

I built a city in the desert.
Lithium and plastic and dry cellulose.
Autonomous flying cars.
Drone-delivered impossible everything,
Nourishing our body-positive bodies.
Streaming, bingeable Obama-produced documentaries
In every remote classroom.

There was even a monorail.

I hope things never go back to how they were. That normal wasn’t normal. Lost to digitized history seemed to be leisure with gravity, interstitial tranquility. The accuracy of vacancy. Nilness.

I want to lose track of days and check the time only to be surprised at the lateness of the hour. Dusk looming, innocent as a satellite.

You date like you're running a hedge fund, always keeping some women on the side just in case your current main squeeze doesn't work out, is busy or out of town, or pisses you off…

From conversations with the collaborators and curators, especially Jeanette (Jae) Green, Sara Maslanka, and Natasha Mijares, I was able to gain more insights into the interconnectedness of poetry and dance and the collaborative, creative process.

So convenient. I don’t like to cook.
So why should I have to? It takes
time and planning and organization
and executive functioning.
I forget to eat all the time.
I’ve got other things to do
and think about. Takes five
minutes in the microwave.
Dinner is quick. Grab a fork
and go back to looking
at the computer while I eat.

Music transcends distances between, crossing oceans,

crossing seas.

Music transcends lifespans, 

living long 

beyond its creator.

I'm no poet. While this is true, it is likewise true that I love poetry and, from time to time, indulge in the urge to write some. If you're really interested, you can go on Amazon and buy a book of my poetry. As I started to search for the thread of the idea behind the piece below, it kept bringing me back to Ginsberg's Howl. It is National Poetry Month, so I went with it.