wyrdwind

Temperance

As a preteen in the 90s

I was given twenty bucks to buy food for two weeks

And if I wanted to eat any more than that

I had to beg

Not in the streets, my parents

Unresponsive and icy in the TV din

There was food in the house but it was Theirs

My mother called this “learning how to budget”

My father “didn’t want to get involved”

So I learned how to steal

I learned

To stab a wooden fence over and over and over

To draft curses of incredible darkness on torn diary pages

And burn them to ash afterwards

I never cried back then, what I did

Was place my hands upon my chest

Late at night in bed

Once I was so tired I’d fall asleep quickly instead

Of repeatedly flinching awake at the threshold of unconsciousness

Gripped with dread

Arms crossed, fingers spread

And concentrate on every good thing I wished for everyone

Internally recite an exhaustive list of everything I ever loved

Live or inanimate, account balances

As an adult, a woman approached our table

At the best Taco Tuesday in town, she said

That she didn’t mean to intrude, but she’d seen me around

And just loved my energy, my style, that I was so free and full of light

Had this welcoming aura

Very Divine Feminine

I thanked her of course, so kind, it meant a lot

My mother snorted derisively once she was gone

And said “Well she doesn’t know you, you’d kill a man”

“You were such a sweet baby”

“I don’t know what happened”

.

Lust for Creation

My favorite toy

Besides the Precious Metals and the Easy Bake

Was a set of molds that allowed me to make

Every unit of a medieval kingdom

And fold-out terrain in which to construct buildings and thusly populate

Not that I adhered to a historically accurate system of governance

Well, unrecognizable to the Greco-Roman or Arthurian traditions at least

I would turn my entire room into Cities

Divide every single one of my highly diverse creatures and beings

Based on their imagined functional traits

Into, essentially, ecosystems or an interconnected web of biomes

Developed individual cultures that made sense for each of them

Then imagined how they’d react to discovering each other

Potential conflicts, who eats what, resolutions, alliances, and trade routes

But most importantly

Who would fall in love against all odds

Who says a donkey can’t get down with a triceratops

And all around the yard and neighborhood

I made little shelters and houses

Just in case anyone needed them

Just because I was “big” and I had hands

For who?

No idea

.

Queen of Wands

We never had cable

Or any of that, just as well

Because unless my friends and I were copying dance moves

Those music videos were always a huge disappointment

Compared to my constant and elaborate internal stream of genesis

Your creative director is a dunce, who tf is making these decisions

Mood Bored

And don’t even get me started on the women

I wanted nothing to do with whatever the fuck all that was about

Not on the screen, not in the school books, not in fiction, not in real life

Literally the only time I ever experienced Representation

Was when my brother came home for the summer

And introduced me to Grace O’Malley

And I was like now THIS I understand

Not that I knew what Irish meant at the time

She was a woman with many enemies and a big appetite

Born to a bunch of bullshit nonsense

Trying to live her fucking life

Making decisions I could respect

Only woman I ever read about where I could say, 100%

I would have done no different

I used to imagine stowing away on a ship

All I was stranded in the landlocked Mojave Desert

And my sister and I bonded

Over a particular book from the Scholastic fair called

Pirates!

(The exclamation mark is part of the title)

Half sisters from different social circumstances, different worlds

White, black, rich, slave

With matching ruby earrings leaving everything behind

After killing to protect each other in self defense

Battles, jungle, hijinks, cursed gems, crazy suitors, fucking Spaniards man, sisterhood etc.

Well you can guess what wasn’t an option on career day

So I started a fight club behind the church

Girls!

.

Empty Nest

Your nervous system does this super fun thing

Where, if you’ve known nothing but spiritual, intellectual, and/or literal starvation

And hostility

It’ll wait until after you escape

And find safety

Lol

To hit you with the emotional backlog

Which is double suck if you have ruthless reality testing

And flatly refuse both drugs and religion

And have no healthcare

Every course is a collision course and you cannot afford an ambulance

So, you know, watch out for that

You become a black mirror people prefer to keep shrouded in a room no one uses

A party trick on Samhain

They don’t want you around too long

I was always baffled, growing up

When friends would say I was the strongest person they knew

When asked to write an essay in class

About their greatest hero

A teacher once said, “You know, he wrote about you”

I declined to read it, I was too embarrassed

Didn’t make sense then, and it still don’t

They all Made It Out, established themselves, broke the cycle

But if you never see them again, sometimes

That means you’ve done your job

A nightmare at dawn

.

Left-Hand Path

Ironic participation is just complicity

Society is shallow, materialistic, and unforgiving

You can’t put Dark Night of the Soul on a resume

They want you compliant, heavily medicated, distracted and entertained

Your satire falls flat, intentions are irrelevant

And when you really, really don’t look your age

Lack milestones and credentials

For doing the kinda work you don’t get paid for

That never gets done when you’re a “success”

Not when you bask in the sun and applause

The public often mistakes the apathy of unbothered privilege for strength

Or else a dipshit bully’s white collar cowardice dressed in academic jargon

Impressed upon his importance

So they won’t recognize what’s behind grays and a smooth face

The gravel and the gutter and the gravitas of a late spring

Pale trunks where last ditched efforts with eyes wept witness

The sap isn’t so sugared as aromatic and complex

Hushed, still, luminous shadows dappled, you’ll forget

You’ll forget

Flash

Betulin brightly burning in the rain

Expect constant, subtle condescension

You’ve survived what most people wouldn’t, congratulations

Where’s your alma mater papers of participation

“I worked every type of shitty retail job until I found one I liked”

Yes, I know, you forced our entire family to stay here so you could watch porn all day in your IT office

I found the hidden hard drive

Men

Not that She claimed any aspirations

Beyond TV and cigarettes

“Selfish” and “evil” were among Her favorite projectiles

Your mother is your first mirror

And you can ether accept that reflection

Or become a spiteful ghost in your own home

Be someplace that’s else

The first forest I ever saw was Coastal Redwoods

We had small summer vacations because they had boomer jobs with unions

Which no longer exist

Every time we returned

I sank deeper and deeper into myself

There was a price

To be the sort of person who thrived in that environment

And I refused to pay it

I don’t want to play your game, it’s bad

I don’t think that you’re my friend

I don’t think you’re very good parents

Asynchronous development

Bought some funny pebbles in a pouch with a brick of hastily printed text, ribbon cinched

Off a funny biker at a yard sale when I was young

With a Jolly Roger in his trailer window

And a huge, healthy, fertile mulberry tree in his front yard

I learned there’s a tune called Tiwaz

That stands for truth, justice, discipline

Sacrifice, commitment to a straight and narrow path, the North Star

Binding oaths

And also, curiously, true love

Protector of warriors and mariners

Of the broken, forgotten, and disabled

See in order to bind Fenrir

Tyr broke his promise to the wolf

And lost his right hand, which he had placed in its mouth

Thus rendering him useless in his chosen profession

He would never fight again, and so

His position is about faith

Wisdom, leadership

Something greater than yourself

I swore on Redwoods

About what?

No idea

.

Budget Break

Christmas Day through January 1^st in NOLA

The first vacation I’ll have had in five years

At my own expense of course

America

Gotta remind myself, make mental note

I don’t really “look forward” or “get excited”

I just do things and don’t rub my hands about it, memory in advance

Always waiting for the other shoe to drop

It is not the responsible choice

Order of operations on the property are clear brush, lay foundation

Affix small cottage on skids for “permanent” status, shipping container, run electric

That’s just so there’s a roof over my head

While I build the main house, learn my flora and fauna extant

My myself

Turns out you have to actually live someplace there’s a forest

If you wanna become an arborist

Wow, crazy right?

My compromise with my inner child

Who said she wanted to be a marine biologist when she grew up

Before she knew that wasn’t an option

For girls like her

How ’bout nurse, EMT, cop, firefighter, Army, Navy, Air Force?

No?

Prison guard?

Trades want apprentices if you’re willing to tolerate sexual harassment

There’s always part-time retail 🙂

And, point blank, I’d rather blow my brains out

Than work in an office

Not that we have any of those here

My coach and mat-mates said and said and said

Just quit so we can make you a cage fighter

Let us set you loose, you’re our Beast

But I said, no, I wish to retain my fine motor skills

Goddamn it, I am a craftsman

Who do you think made all them baby blankets

And the Very Big Grown Up Boy Quilts

With hand embroidered barbells and woofs

My Jiu Jitsu wife beamed like a proud mother

When she informed me our coach told the entire bar I was big hearted

But

Sipping an Iced Lavender London Fog at a trendy new coffee shop

ISA study guide with dust devils and tumbleweeds all rabble-rouse at glance

An Insta-gullet: pink walls, rattan lamps, checkered floor, plastic succulents

Stiff velvet furniture with metal legs

Circle K circling the drain across the sun buckled highway

Then raw BLM desert degraded

A pregnant tweaker dead in the crosswalk just the other day

When a truck sped up to blow the light

“Accident”

Crumpled memorial taped to the streetlamp

Formative relational trauma

Is the study of what wasn’t

You have to know what you don’t know

Define the invisible

Why you tuned our wrong, defective, Other, wondering

Why it’s so much easier for all of them

There’s no broken bones or bruises there’s just

Or I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know

Later later later later later

Read the directions, ask someone else

What do you mean you stole the car because we wouldn’t help you learn?

It’s just three miles you can walk

If you get hot jump in the river

I don’t remember that

Oh is that what you think you deserve?

Don’t roll your eyes! I never ask you for anything!

Smack, smack, smack

It’s not my fault you don’t know x y z

You never showed an interest

You have such a nasty temper

You were half a demon

To think all these people call you an angel, hah, you’re so manipulative

I’m ashamed to have you as my daughter

I did everything I could to keep you from getting hurt

You know

It’s the youngest bees that create the Royal Jelly

To rear and sustain a Queen

They’re just girls

Ellas and godmothers

The thorns of innocence and the sacred heart

Compartments and chambers

I just think about that a lot is all

A child

Isn’t meant to be strong

She’s meant to be loved