©2025 Lisa Maraventano. All rights reserved.
Entropy
Volume Two
Lisa Maraventano
To Jennifer Ingalls McMahon
Contents
I. Measure of Disorder
1. If you don’t love me
2. One day I’m gonna wake up
3. Maybe
4. The sky is as blue
5. Really a man
6. The luckiest people
7. Still Here
8. Life So Far
9. The Price We Pay
10. Be Satisfied, Lisa
11. Modern Magic
12. We pay good money
13. Marble
14. Casablanca
15. Children of God
16. A Lot of Water
17. Valentine’s Day
18. Something Broke
19. Contemporary
20. So how long is forever?
II. Equals the Constant
21. There is only one Timeline
22. SATOR Square
23. Downtown Sunday Night
24. Rosy O’Grady’s
25. This Cloak
26. Morning, February
27. I guess you were right
28. Aftermath
29. Like Huck Finn
30. I saw true beauty today
31. I hate mopping
32. Haruspex
33. I know what I am
34. J’ai faim
35. I get that
36. Slick
37. Isn’t it cool
38. No understanding
39. The Day of Miracles
40. Not Sure
III. Log the Microstates
41. Oh shit they found us
42. I know that’s right
43. Yours
44. Take fire from the wheels
45. No
46. Jacob
47. I am tied
48. Thunder and Lightning
49. Gonna be a pretty spring
50. If the world exists
51. I am late for my nap
52. Dance
53. Maybe you’re right
54. This is how
55. I got saved in the storm
56. Edie Sedgwick
57. More Fool I
58. I’m not gonna get rich
59. Some of us
60. Racing death
IV. Within the Macrostate
61. DJing my exit
62. Faust
63. I got drunk
64. Rome Again
65. If I waited
66. A Day Worth Living
67. Slot Machine
68. How Deep is Your Love
69. This
70. Even the Wind Stopped
71. All the Women are Pretty
72. Why do I
73. Peace
74. Shoes
75. Something Shifted
76. Viking
77. Father Time
78. Wordsmith
79. Which Words
80. World’s End
I. Measure of Disorder
1. If you don’t love me
If you don’t love me,
Why do I love you?
What is this seesaw
Suspending me midair
Crashing me to the ground
If you don’t love me,
Why do I love you?
Why can’t I just be myself again
Go play on my own
Instead of paired with you, teetering
2. One day I’m gonna wake up
One day I’m gonna wake up
And my face will be truly old
No sign of youth
Or who I once was
No way to lie to myself
And think I’m pretty
I will look in the mirror
At the wrinkly old woman
And try to remember
This day and this moment
When I knew
I had two choices before me
Love, or life
Which way will I go?
I still don’t know
I want to make that old woman happy
Satisfied with her choices
Earn every one of those wrinkles
And gray hairs
In the coming days
I want to get to the end
And be able to say
I both loved, and lived
Even though this love
Threatens to consume me
Even though life is empty
Without love
So. What to do?
I know I have to take down my Christmas tree
And do some laundry
Find meaning in the mundane
Or at least not lose my own meaning
My heart is not in it
My heart is in Rome, stuck in a jar
On the shelf of a man who
Forgot he put it there
Beating
Slowly beating
While my heartless self
Tries to live
Another cold January day
Tries to solve the mystery
Of what I did to myself
When my face and my heart
Still belonged to me
3. Maybe
Maybe our memory
Is etched in our wrinkles
Like elephant hides
All the days we’ve lived
All those stalled hours
I can still catch the rainbow
In my skin
When the sun hits my forearm just right
And it is bronze
Like a goddess
Covered in broken light
That shows me
Behind my glittering eyelashes
My own immortality
The record of time
Etched on my skin
4. The sky is as blue
The sky is as blue
This January
As the one three years ago
It is just as cold
And snowy
Some things I want to forget
Some things I want to remember
But I can’t
I can’t forget and
I can’t remember
I am digging through the layers
Trying to make peace
With myself, my memory of myself
My memories
I want nothing, want for nothing
There has already been so much
Too much, written on the wall
By the Tiber looking toward
St. Peter’s on the Ponte Sant’Angelo
We’ve all seen the writing on the wall
Too much, except written with a “two”
Two are too much sometimes
Sometimes the singular
Is sufficient, more than enough
And yet this other, this second
Haunts me, day and night
And how can someone haunted
Ever find peace in the pieces
Of a life like so much water under
So many bridges
I can no longer cross
So I remain restless
Even in this cold stillness
Even under this clear blue sky
5. Really a man
There used to be this thing
Called courage
Men wore it around
Along with valor and strength
And they would pick up women
At dances and diners
Take them out, try to kiss them
Sometimes
Maybe too many times
Once is too many
The woman didn’t want to be kissed, or raped
And so it is good I guess
If all your cocks have shriveled
And you can only come watching porn
Once there was no fear
To love and be loved
Now you seem to consider
Cowardice a virtue
So what is really a man?
And why do I care?
Why would I want one
When I’m fine on my own
But these tits of mine
Miss male fondling
And this body of mine
Craves your weight
Pinned down
Penetrated
Makes me sick, this
Sad desire
Makes me wish
I were
Really a man
6. The Luckiest People
The luckiest people in the world
End up at Hambone in Clarksdale
Mississippi on a Tuesday night
Listening to
Gloria and the Doctor
Or the hostel on Sunday listening to Ray Cashman
Or Red’s with Big A
Lee and Heather
Hopson, Shacks
Big T, Edna Nicole
Hear Prayer sing
Juke joints alive
Music, blues
Ground Zero
LaLa, Lucious, Jaxx,
Cricket Stan and Frenchie
Be
Saturday afternoon
Slim, Bluesberry
Mojo hands
Maybe shoot pool with Dynamite
At 8th Street Grocery
Play cards with Amana on
New Year’s Day
Or hang out with Irma.
None of these things make sense
To anyone who is not
Lucky
But I hope you are
And you come on down
To the land of muddy waters
Feel your soul
Find what luck
Is left in the world
7. Still Here
It was all in my head you said
And maybe it was
Or is
And I really am
Delusional
Madwoman, lunatic
Like every writer should be
And probably is
We hear these voices
In our heads
Demanding release
In ink
I still feel all of it
You would think
It would fade by now
You would think
I would be delighting
In my freedom
And I guess I am
In a way
This time I can please myself
Because there is only myself
To please
And all the chains of love
And apron strings of
Childhood and motherhood
Have been broken, untied
We don’t know each other
You said. It was all in my head
And you’re right, you’re right
I don’t know you, I
Barely know myself
But knowledge is not what
We should seek
Knowledge just gets us into trouble
Wisdom, yes. Wisdom
And perhaps it is unwise
To trade this hard-earned freedom
For anything, anyone
I will wait
I’ve never heard patience is wasted
Faith is wasted
Love is wasted
I will wait
That is wisdom
That is what I seek
Without going anywhere
8. Life So Far
Don’t push me to the fucking edge
But isn’t that why I am here
to get to the edges of myself—
have the full experience of life
I’m alive, I’m alive—life was
glorious then, everything tinged in
glory
Being alive—again
My little feet running
from one thing to the next
I’m here, I’m here
I was magic, walking under horses
Wandering
Exploring
All of it
Every corner of my house, every
blade of grass in the garden
Then I discovered a dark mysterious
world with temporary pleasure
And permanent damage. I
still bear the scars.
The darkness began to engulf me,
this little light of mine still
trying to shine. The darkness can
see the light, but the light only
sees the darkness.
School days all the world’s a stage
I tried to understand that this
gray prison was only a phase of
internment, and one day I would
be free. So I traded my childhood
away.
And by now other people were
involved. Everywhere.
With orders and demands
I tried
I tried to please all of them
But they were never pleased,
satisfied. Happy.
Just sucked away all my magic
until I was an empty shell
filled with useless facts.
I rode the bus, the city bus,
Walked the large streets, waited
Exposed to the elements, exposed to
unsavory elements, characters.
Found solace in library books, but even
there was unwanted. Where was my
place? My place in this world? Where
should I wander? Whither
Don’t push me to the fucking edge
Drive me up the wall then call me crazy
Give me a chance to be
So therefore I am before I am
not. I think. But then—finally—
the page turned. A new chapter
started. This one called freedom. Little
tastes here and there, moments of freedom
and joy. Light came back, Sol Invictus,
Through the winter solstice of that time.
And I discovered the reward for
my sacrifice—life was new again
filled with possibility, exploration
Until snap, that enlarged heart broke
into two, then a million little pieces.
And I had to put it back together with
ink as glue. And miles under the
wheels of one large Buick to the
land of dreamy dreams and there
I stayed. For a while. The dark
crept out of the shadows and
forced itself on me, this barely stable
cracked vessel and tried to break
me again. But I would not, could not
Break anymore. I had numbered the
pieces, and the ink knew the order.
Like magnets the pieces clung to each
other, holding on, that force of nature
immutable, eternal. The lightning struck
All around, but I was safe
resting in the arms of my Beloved. Carried
home. And from there, after bloating
my young body into a caricature, I
tried again. From the well of souls rose
one who could surf the chaos of
my mind and drown me in his and
that was love in those
days. Until in the darkness
one night nothing happened and
I gave up, went home. Three weeks later
yoked like oxen up the hill we went
decades in contentment—wife and mother
two decades, a little more. Always a
struggle to stay ahead of the entropy
keep mouths fed, floors clean. But
good enough, good enough. Big dreams
that fell apart, weather, seasons.
Softball, volleyball, soccer. But their eyes.
Their little fingers coloring scraps of
paper that said I love you, Mommy
You’re the best mom in the world
And I felt it. Felt all of it. And
There was magic again each day
Treasures in jars of clay. And as
predicted Father Time stole all my
babies away until they fledged
And I mother hen was alone once
more. But while they grew, we explored
the world and lived in the country and the City and
Paradise which cannot exist on earth,
we found that out with body counts and
long nights when I couldn’t breathe.
I wandered again, across two oceans
and a continent, to the the city of flowers
and began again. The spiral shape
of a bouquet, all is a spiral wave in
Infinite dimensions. And there in the garden
of Hotel Croce di Malta, a man.
The one I’d waited for my whole life
to be whole. The other part of myself
Perhaps. A fancy, a delusion. But it
was Independence day and the day
before in the depths of utter loneliness
had felt my hand taken there in
that church. My hand was taken, my
right hand, and I was not alone.
And then he appeared, manifested
from shadows, and climbed inside of
me and set up residence. I made all
the mistakes and came to the crossroads,
and I will find my direction. The ink
knows the way and the water drips
and the heat works. This is home
for now. And the magic, long locked away,
reappears like a rabbit in a hat.
9. The Price We Pay
Last night at Red’s
My friend asked me
Who I thought
In this town
Really had the blues
Was a real bluesman
And I had to think
For a while
Yes it’s part show,
Part show.
But fake?
The blues is a feeling, right—
We all know that
But what feeling
To open your eyes again
To get out of bed
To stay alive
So I’ve considered
It’s all real,
We’re as real as it gets
Or we wouldn’t be here.
It’s hard for all of us
To get out of bed
Stay alive
Slap on a smile and a coat
Show up.
But we do.
Every fucking day.
We show up for each other
And let the sound
Wash over us, through us
Along with smoke and alcohol
And bullshit
Gossip and chitchat
But somehow it works.
We chain despair
Into a few chords
And beat the fuck out of it.
And maybe
Not one of us
Picks cotton by hand
Anymore
Although the man still
Tries to enslave us.
We shall be free.
Broke but unbroken.
10. Be satisfied, Lisa
If we dream
And the dream is real
And we are dreamers
Inside the dream
And with this heaviness of your hand
This weight, and the energy inside
This wake time is the illusion
And soon we will be in dreams again
Inseparable, unseparated
11. Modern Magic
We are supposed to cling
Right?—vaginas are supposed to cling
And then when we do
These hearts and minds attached
To them
The vanishing act
You knew I was fragile
But chose to break me
Just for the sound
12. We pay good money
We pay good money
Lots of it
Every day, every weekend
To distract us from ourselves
Personalize that:
I pay money
Good money
Money I’ve worked for all week
Every evening, weekend
To distract me
From myself
And by that I mean
Netflix subscriptions, cocktails
Baseball tickets, dime bags,
Ballet, Hamilton, chef specials
Wine
Whatever the fuck it is
That makes you
Forget for a minute
You’re here, I’m here
We’re here
And maybe have a job
To do that isn’t about paying the bills
But is maybe about being a placeholder
Bookmark in history
And if we turned to to this page
January 30, 2025
What would we find?
We did it
We did our job
To love one another
To see the divine in the random,
Mundane and absurd
To take and give in disproportionate measure
So that you are emptier
And yet
Can’t ask for one drop more
Listen people
This is it
We should make the most of it
13. Marble
I sit here
Baffled
By the world
By my self
By myself
Blue chair, kitchen, gray day
February
Systems rise and fall
Like we all do
Where are we in the
Cosine of the wave?
And does it matter?
It doesn’t seem to matter
We wake up, open our eyes
Dropped back from the sky
Into waking hours
Our part to perform
In this theater
Stagehand, lead role
Custodian
We each have our part
Which shifts over time
Like Shakespeare told us
So long ago
I know all this,
You know all this
Yet I am still baffled
By the production
These plot twists
Screwing with my head
I suppose the best thing to do
Is last night’s dishes
Maybe water my plants
Exist within my tiny sphere
As small as I can make it
And then the world in small
Shall thrive, clean
14. Casablanca
Flee for my life
Was not on my list
Of shit to do this week
I always thought
If or when the time came
I would not hesitate
And here I sit
Not moving, not packing
Not even sure I should run
Because, really,
Where is there to go?
They were so brave, our grandparents
But this world is not their world
The treadmill of time turned
This isn’t Casablanca
Or the usual suspects
We don’t have Paris anymore
15. Children of God
Oh my friend
We are inside your dream
A long hike
Foxes nipping at our heels
Every step is painful
Whether or not
You can feel your feet
Loss, heartbreak, despair
In every shadow
But let me encourage you,
My friend, even though
You perceive the truth
The dream we live in
Your dream
Also has the beauty
Of rocks and trees
Blue sky, wide vistas
A whole world to discover
The miracles of sunrise
And sunset
Wrapping up the days
And then this long
Dream, this journey
Through the wilderness
Is only to challenge
Our strength
To show us who we are.
16. A Lot of Water
It’s raining today
But I’m not sad
The years have taught
Many lessons
And I’m wise now
Wise enough to know
I won’t melt in the rain.
I survived another hard thing
Loving you, the hardest man
And here I am, looking good
Feeling better, no worse for wear
Used up a little more
But I’ve been used, many times before
So this gray day
My most dreaded of the year
It feels pretty good
To sit in my kitchen
With Tom Petty, toast, tangelos
And know I made it
Made it through
The labyrinth of loving you
17. Valentine’s Day
There’s a whole pile
Of broken hearts
Lying around
Out on the curb
Waiting to be picked up
Like the forgotten Christmas tree
None of the pieces fit perfectly
Although we have some
Similarity in form
Suddenly we are being scooped up
And carried home, a project
We shall become a mosaic
These shattered heart pieces
With a little music, some laughter
A lot of booze
Salvage what is left
See what beauty can emerge
From brokenness, rubble
What pattern is shaped
With an artist’s eye
18. Something Broke
Something broke inside
Yesterday, not my heart
Which has long been fragments
No, something I am trying
To name
I just don’t care anymore
I can’t. It is not worth
The pain
I’ve long been able to say
Fuck fish—except with this
And maybe that’s all it is,
The day I say fuck fish
Whatever it is, I hope it sticks
I went down the hole yesterday
I can’t afford that. No rabbits.
No fish.
19. Contemporary
We are under a tornado warning
But I guess I am Southern now
Because I ordered another glass
Of red wine here at the hostel
Auberge, Madidi
And let the natives
Direct my
Level of concern
I remember
I remember standing
In Saint John, the beach
Drunk off rum punch
The day after
I turned forty
I found my contemporary
A man whose name I don’t
Remember
But we were the same age
And he smoked my cigarettes
So I asked him for one
After years of abstention
We knew, we both knew
What it felt like to turn
Eighteen in 1989
Twenty-eight at Y2K
Thirty-seven when
Obama was elected
And now I sit
On a barstool in Clarksdale
Contemporaries
All around
Plus or minus ten
And I feel
I feel all of it
The years, the stories
The weaving
Of this fabric
And I shall be
Content, satisfied
To play my part
Pull my little thread along
Broken, heartbroken, whole
Doesn’t matter
This is
This time
And we rejoice in
Being together
Whether or not
The storm ever hits.
20. So how long is forever?
So how long is “forever” anyway?
Is it more than seven months?
I said I would be faithful forever
Until I stopped loving you, or it
Proved to be a delusion
But I am weak and a liar
What good are promises anyway
That can’t be redeemed
II. Equals the Constant
21. There is only one timeline
There is only one timeline
And we are on it
No multiverses
Other dimensions, sure
The quantum computers are starting today
And AI keeps growing
The same guy who wants to colonize Mars
Is at the right hand of the one in the White House
None of this makes any sense
But here we are, this is the timeline
We will do anything
But change
We will change everything
But ourselves
Hard-hearted rebels
Losers, all of us
22. SATOR Square
You have built a design
With scope to maneuver
I will not solve
The mystery of you
No matter how I try
There are pieces
You won’t reveal
You don’t want me
To know
I should not spin my wheels
In mud
Churning
I will only get stuck
The ground will freeze
Soon enough
I can wait
Go back inside
Do my own work
Leave when the weather’s better
Or at least works with me
To set the wheels in motion
23. Downtown Sunday Night
I live in a ghost town
One of the haunts
Ghosts, all of us
Phantoms of our old selves,
Our old lives
Empty buildings
Empty streets
Mansions left to decay
Deserted, abandoned
Time took down
The theater marquees and
Closed the grand hotel lobby
Left us here to wander
Piece together history
Piece together what remains
Into some semblance of living
Some were born here
Some got stuck here
But many of us,
Many of us choose
This strange haunted land
Knowing that’s where ghosts belong.
24. Rosy O’Grady’s
Your smile when you saw me
Through the window of the pub
Lit up your whole face
On a dark day, full radiance
But that wasn’t enough
You found that insufficient
Wholeness in a broken world.
25. This Cloak
“No greater love has man than this
Than to lay down your life for your friends”
John 15:13
We chose the path to create
Some art in this world
And in order to do that
We had to sacrifice
Our hearts, our sanity
This is the only path
Heartbreak, crack and
Crazy, same root word
This is how art is made
The cracked-open heart
And we chose this path
26. Morning, February
I love when
A little mystery is solved
Some question answered
A song title I didn’t know
A word I had forgotten
Mostly we forget what that feels like
Holding the world in our palms as we do
Or we think we do
All this information right here
But there are secrets
Buried in the past
That didn’t make the cut
And as time goes by
The layers like volcanic ash
Will cover all of it
Memories of the past
The whole world
Believing only what is here
In our hands
I hope you won’t forget
All you knew before
But you will, I will
Maybe that is how the
World becomes new again
27. I guess you were right
I guess you were right
I’ve been wrong before
Many times
So—pick myself up
Brush off the dirt
Test out my feet, keep going
No other option
I like it when
I only have one option
The onus of decision removed
Proceed with caution
One day it will all be over
Until then, do everything
Do everything as if
My life depended on it
28. Aftermath
Surrounded by the charred
Remains of the former world
Which has passed away
Sic Transit Gloria Mundi
Where to step
That doesn’t smolder,
Is not ash
29. Like Huck Finn
Looking like Huck Finn
In ragged jeans
Day drinking
My way through the end
Of February, Democracy
South African Chenin Blanc
While my country is being dismantled
Again.
I feel like a traitor
But I’m not the only one
Trading in my
Conscience for survival
And so it goes.
The sun is warm.
I took off my boots
And feel the bricks of Amanda’s porch
On my soft, pampered feet
Listening to Temptation
By New Order
Remembering a time
When I believed this was possible
Finding Lotus Land
When I lived in Paradise and
Discovered flowers
I am tired of myself
Tired of this world, and
You
But the War on Drugs
Is playing now
Amanda is fixing steak
And I will go to
Celia’s later, sympathy
Card in hand
Play with people
with real problems
While I am drunk
Off white wine
And anger
Directed at only myself
The culpable one
Killing February
Not with malice,
But with contempt
Contempt
That I let it get to me
Once again
30. I saw true beauty today
I saw true beauty today
A mask
In Venice
Handmade, with blue feathers
In such curves and curls
I had to stop
I don’t buy anything
Anymore
No souvenirs
I have even quit taking pictures
Mostly
Recording anything
Seems vain
I am here and that’s enough
No need to remember
No need to plan
And so
I stopped in
To simply say to the signora
Brava
Well done
Marvelous work.
I can recognize
True beauty
Take time to acknowledge
How rare it is
And then
With only a little regret
Move on
31. I hate mopping
I hate mopping
But appreciating the reflection
Off a shiny kitchen floor
Is not to be underestimated
Nothing more to do now
than listen to the birds
through the open windows
while the tiles dry
Maybe plan my day a little
Think about an old lover
Remember my dreams
I’m trying to quit smoking
Or at least cut down
Keep moving, keep busy
Mop the floors, dust the baseboards
Weed all of the flowerbeds
Elevate my vibration, detoxify
Become real, and whole
I love smoking, I hate mopping
Maybe self-mastery is the
Path to true freedom
Self-control, self-discipline is the
Highest form of self-love
This is bad news for a self-indulgent
Lifelong hedonist
But fuck it, I’m trying
Doing my best this morning
Mopping the floors
32. Haruspex
I can’t ask you
To read my guts
And divine the future
Too uncomfortable
For both of us
I am sacrifice
Living sacrifice
Carried to the altar
By the wind
I spill my guts
Onto this blank page
As requested
As required
But they’re not for human eyes
Too weak to see
The purpose of the sacrifice
Is redemption, not divination
For understanding
Of both the sacred and profane
33. I know what I am
I know what I am
Drunk again
Drunk again
This season
Tearing into my flesh
Like salt
I am tender
Too tender
Time to grill
This sad little meat
On some charcoal fire
In the collier’s snowy wood
Salted, marinated flesh
Chemically changed
With fire and smoke
For consumption,
Nourishment
So meat nourishes man
34. J’ai faim
Once you see through the
Illusion
You can’t go back
There is a reason
For this law of nature
You have the right
To remain silent
Good advice
Follow the judge’s lead
Whatever the accusation
Or evidence
You have the right
To remain silent
And one thing to remember
Is that the illusion exists
To protect you
We are not meant
To handle the truth, all of it
Small bites, amuse-bouche
Never
Bite off
More
Than you can chew
You have the right
To remain silent
To let the
Illusion protect you
To stay where you are.
35. I get that
I get that part of this
Is shameless self-promotion
There is the art, and then
The industry of being the artist
From Marilyn Monroe to Pablo Picasso
Seneca to Chalamet
There is the person, and the persona
The creative and the commercial
It seems likely
I won’t do that, sell
My work, myself
Become successful
In the worldly way
I’ve had plenty of chances
I was there when the internet began
Social media, all that
I’m not opposed to making a living
I can’t do it for the world though
I can’t write for the masses
Only for you, the one
The one who reads them, needs them
Needs these words that come
And I get that, if it is only for one
Whether that is you or just me
That is sufficient
And worth the price
36. Slick
I used to want that too
A slick life
New construction,
Everything neat and clean
I was watching TV last night
At my friend’s house
Severance and Surface
Very slick, suspenseful
Edgy, moody, dark
I played on my phone
Tuned in now and again
Recognizing and not recognizing
Some of the actors
This is what we do
Modern culture, right
But I am going backward
In time like Benjamin Button
Except instead of me reverse aging
I am spinning back the world
Like Superman saving Lois Lane
I can pinpoint where the timeline shifted
Here in my hand, this fruit
Knowledge of good and evil
Like half humanity
I was born with this hole
The only thing that is supposed
To be slick
In this whole coarse world
37. Isn’t it cool
Isn’t it cool
That fucking
Produces children
And suddenly
There you are
With this little hatched embryo
Taking up your bed
And your wife’s lap
And she’s happy
And you’re happy
Even though you don’t know what
You’re doing
And you have to take out the trash
This Sunday evening
Roll the bin to the street
But your ejaculation
One drunken night
Made your son
Your fucking son
And. Now you’re raising a man
The future of mankind
Even though you don’t get
Laid much anymore
38. No understanding
I understand
You want fame and fortune
Recognition, security
Beautiful monster
Or so you believe
Submission, subduing
The wildness of your own captor
To stay in the shadows
Dark and hidden
Your beloved shadows
That define your shape
I know all this
Your genius and talent
Wisdom and mischief
Wrapped up in black leather
Sprinkled with dew
I know nothing
Only a stupid cow
That has no purpose
But milk or meat
39. The day of miracles
I wrote it on my calendar
The word for March—
Miracles
The balance of faith and doubt
Suspended, even
Then adding one pebble, one speck
Every day
Because every day you gave me reason
Until the miracle happened
Is happening
40. Not sure
How can I go through it again
Being strung out, strung along
Like wire, like spiderweb
You have the same hunger I do
The same thirst
Only one thing will quench, satisfy
They feed off blood, these spiders
Our blood
Wire, web, or water, wasted, worn
My veins are filled with you
As yours are filled with me
The balance, the arc
This circuit conducting
The flow, alternating, direct
It is the beginning of something
That cannot be finished
Just like us, just like us
III. Log the Microstates
41. Oh shit they found us
Oh shit they found us
The youngsters
My land of lotus eaters
And nineteen twenties Paris
I looked for my whole life
That’s okay I guess
I was getting tired
Of hearing about geriatric maladies
And they’re not that young
Anymore, the kids
Millennials and Z
Finding their way
Making their way
In this wild world
Trying something new
Lo-fi, slow living
Soft girls and boys
Just trying
Trying to believe
In something besides the program,
system, matrix
Lies
Come sing to me
Come drink with us
Sit on these old couches
Be, be real
Be here, and
Enjoy the honeyed flowers
42. I know that’s right
The thing that is
Supposed to kill me
Has been the only thing
Keeping me alive some days
And the only thing
I like to do more
Requires
I let the other go
I have always been contrary
In opposition
To—well, everything
Everything how it’s supposed to be
That’s not my way
Wrong way on a one way street
Left-handed and Virgo
But I know that’s right
I grew up in Sacramento
We would ride our horses along
the American River
And those damn fish would spawn
And die all over its banks
Rotting fish in hot sunshine
I’m no better than any fish
Who knows you gotta go upstream
That is our destiny
That is our design
43. Yours
What’s it called?
A “pick me” girl?
I planted daffodils last fall
And now this twentieth of March
Cold and blustery, bright blue sky
The yellow blooms wave cheerfully on
Their long hollow stalks
All the daffodils look pretty much the same
And there’s already a famous poem about them
And you know what they look like: yellow, spring
I picked a couple for my kitchen table
So lovely, jaunty
Much bigger than the ones from Safeway.
They’re in a white ceramic pitcher
A lifelong friend gave me for my birthday
I’m no rare and perfect flower
But like Zuzu with her prize
When you take me home, or pick me
When I am the flower you tuck in your coat
Or the daffodil on your table
Remember maybe you’re the one who chose
You’re the one who picked me.
44. Take fire from the wheels
Take fire from the wheels
Daughter
Stand on your feet
And live
You will not fall
You will not be put to shame
Take heart, your faith
Has healed you
And you shall be saved
Saved from what?
The chaos of your mind, this world
Exact replicas of each other
Come to me,
All of you
We shall be yoked
Lightly
And together
Keep rolling
45. No
No one likes to be told no
Not even my dog
Not me, that’s for sure
Nor my sister, my parents,
My kids. No advice
Is required. No authority
Is unquestioned. No absolute
Cannot be negotiated, is uncompromised.
Knowing this, we proceed
With caution. If no is an
Impossible answer, how
To phrase the question
So the only possibility
Is yes.
We are all spoiled
By our independence
Raised on it, this belief
That no doesn’t exist,
Or is inapplicable
Or can’t be outmaneuvered
The American way
But before that
There was Jacob, wrestling
And sometimes you lose
No is the answer
The final answer by this authority
You cannot beat
To take no for an answer…
My dog is looking at me right now
Displeased
Pretty soon I will change my mind
And she will get what she wants
And so will I.
But for now—no.
46. Jacob
Well, my love, the struggle is
Only against myself, and so I struggle
Fight down my own demons
Small victories, and when I’m defeated
Somehow I try again
What would I have done differently?
What could I do?
This is not rhetorical but honest examination
I keep walking
This path, alone or with fellow pilgrims
Doesn’t matter
It is the same walk
At night I am able to rest
Vacate into the realm
That offers restoration
And when morning comes
There is no other option
But to do it all again
Wrestle fearlessly, wrestle
The shadow, walk the path
47. I am tied
I am tied to the bed of our love
With invisible silk cords
Whose tensile strength
Stretches centuries, lifetimes
There is no escape from
This unlikely prison
Every day a new sentence
Every night, reprieve
48. Thunder and Lightning
“All right, tits,
What’re we doin’ today?”
I ask them.
They don’t answer.
So I will sit here
Listening to music
Smoking a cigarette
Finishing my coffee
Thinking about last night
And next month
Squander this present moment
In memory and dream
But in an old silk bathrobe and bare feet
Stevie Nicks singing on my phone
Along with the birds I hear
Through the open kitchen window
There seems to be no hurry
To face this day
Just let it unfold, unfold
Moment by moment
I’ve been living this way a while now
No plans
While the world careens through
This season of history
An Italian song comes on
And I remember the teenage girls
Of Rome singing it in the streets
One spring evening last year
I am a woman, exactly as made
Prone to wander, prone to wonder
Thunder and Lightning
The names of my tits.
49. Gonna be a pretty spring
Cricket said, “Don’t leave your people. Never.”
She was talking about something else.
But I’m trying not to miss you
To pretend I don’t care and I am fine
That you’re on Mulholland Drive
And have been preparing brunch
For other friends while I’m here
With one of the villain’s cronies
And everyone else in town.
The crony’s weed is from California,
Good stuff and I don’t smoke that often.
Now I am
Too high listening
To Big A, also quite high
And this Scottish lady dances
And the storm wind blows without heat
And the masks layer thick, Pirandello
And I live this moment
With ghosts, the hard-drinking legends
The shadows of the greats.
They’d love it, Bukowski, Hemingway, and pals
At this bar Madidi, drink almost gone
Never really gone, always more
We just have to ask our friend Lucy
Behind the bar to pour another one
And you’re on Mulholland Drive
And your porch is empty
50. If the world exists
If the world exists
As I was first shown
It was pretty black and white
No color
I love Lucy, Andy Griffith
I knew I lived in a colorful world
But there’s something alluring
about black and white
Some elegance, some innocence
Kodachrome couldn’t capture
51. I am late for my nap
The wide world
Full of terrorists
Causing chaos and trauma
Dragging us to the
Chasm abyss void
Can’t catch me
I move too slow
Become invisible
And so it goes
Vodka is clear, and so
Is my mind, no clouds
Water is clear, and so
Is intention, no mud
To get stuck in
This fine spring day
The joy is in the disappearing
Disconnection from that
Wide, wild world
Let go and be
Simple, really
And yet the examination
Most are destined to fail.
It is eighteen minutes after three
And I’m late for my nap
At five I will walk the dog, and
At half past five do yoga
At Saint George’s Episcopal Church
In Clarksdale, Mississippi
I will walk in the door
With the stained glass
Depicting how the saint slayed the dragon.
And this is how I too slay
The dragon always breathing
Fire down our necks.
52. Dance
You want everything at once
But you are here to experience Time
And all the temptation of the flesh
And to still choose me, Love
So baby steps
Piano piano
Two forward, one back
This is the journey,
Or dance to this tune
So celebrate
Your increments of progress
and keep following my lead
53. Maybe you’re right
Maybe you’re right
And we are on different paths
On this perilous journey through life
That always ends in death
I will die. But until then,
I am trying to live
The thing is I love my path
It is good
Not more than you
But to compare and quantify love
Seems silly
And it is good enough for me
You’re right again
So I will keep wandering
Walking my path
Without you
We will end up
The same place in the end
And the different paths we are taking
Have both been right all along
54. This is how
This is how
Winos are made
Do we use that word?
Drunks, alcoholics
Seems harsh
However accurate
Let’s ask my liver
See what she says
But I’m old now
And there is nothing
Better to do
Than sit in my kitchen
The blue chair
Listening to the storm
Drinking red wine in
The late afternoon
Feeling the close
Of all these days
The beautiful journey
That has led me here
The place I found
All of it
Peace. Health. Faith. Freedom.
Occupation. Community.
All that I’ve been looking for
On all those lonely roads
So I shall be grateful
Drink my wine
Hope the storm passes us
Without doing too much damage
Hope there is a tomorrow
That can equal today.
55. I got saved in the storm
I got saved in the storm
A dark road in Texas
A long time ago
Maybe I got saved again
Yesterday, another storm
Maybe I found the way out
I can’t do it and
I can’t not do it
Too long in limbo
Maybe this is a turning point
And I can see where
This new road takes me
Probably not. I know that.
Probably not. But the possibility
Sounds so promising
56. Edie Sedgwick
A girl walked up last night
On the arm of Carlos Elliot
And damn. I didn’t know
There were still women out there
Or here, that looked like that
Like Edie Sedgwick in her prime
Maybe I can transform myself
Drink more water, less wine
Become glorious
Even if never again in this life
I will be young.
I analyzed her,
hair clothes skin—all beautiful
I don’t know her soul
Probably beautiful too, as we all are
Once stripped of the masks and ego
We are all beautiful souls
If sometimes a bit lost
On all these winding roads
And perhaps—
I haven’t met him yet
maybe he’s still out there somewhere
And not in Rome
6’2”, 220
Big arms, great voice
Complicated. Difficult.
A little weird.
Knows who he is
And what he wants
Plenty of time and a little money
To spend with me
Where are you, Gypsy king?
Come find your woman
Let’s live until the end.
Let’s fucking live
Until the end.
57. More Fool I
I could be
Sucking ass somewhere
To find acceptance
But I’m here instead
Bluesberry back alley
Listening to Chain of Fools
Fighting with the sun
To not get too hot, or burned
But I enjoy its heat
And benediction this April
Juke Joint day
So I will find you later
My people, that give me
Wine and validation
For now I’m content
With my prostituted champagne
A kiss for a bottle
Sun too hot on my thigh, but
Head in the shade
Here in the place I started
Hearing a heavy, deep voice
Break open the chain
Of these, these glorious fools.
58. I’m not gonna get rich
I’m not gonna get rich
Off this flogging
My guts into words
But maybe
Just maybe
It will be enough
Nah, it will be enough
Just what I need
To get me through
So thanks for listening
Keeping me in wine
And old but comfortable clothes
And my little place
In Clarksdale Mississippi
Where all the truth lies dormant
And you just have to scratch at
The surface of this dark dirt
To find it.
59. Some of us
Some of us have Gypsy souls
And Gypsy feet
Hardwired to wander
And cannot be tamed, tied down
Although you try
And we love you,
It’s not that we don’t love you
It’s simply that we are not designed
To be shackled to the system
Or to someone
Bound by a piece of golden shackle
On our left hand.
We recognize each other,
This fellowship of Gypsies
As we wander on our way
Crossing paths, sharing stories
Over a campfire or the burning
Ends of our cigarettes
We know, we Gypsies,
We know this world
Is trying to tie us down
Bind us to earth or water
But we belong to the fire, the air
The smoke
Not meant to be contained
We know, when our eyes meet,
The hard roads we’ve traveled
For the sake of our freedom
Not to ask for more than is offered
That the illusion of permanence
Is something we are not
Designed to see.
60. Racing death
Isn’t that what we’re doing—
Racing death
Sometimes we lose, and
The bad habits or illnesses or injuries
Need to be addressed
If I buy a rug in Istanbul next week
It will last past my life
A parrot, a tortoise
A new washing machine
Might die before me,
A new car might give out
My foot hurts. Will it last me
Or will I eventually have to
Have it fixed
Funny these questions
When the future once seemed
To have no end
IV. Within the Macrostate
61. DJing my exit
Packing, leaving
Out of Control by U2 playing
Skipped Breakdown and
The Bed’s Too Big Without You
Space Age Love Song is all right
I don’t want anything
From you, not even
Compliments and courtesy
Too late, too late
You broke the fragile thing
We had between us
Delicate like old glass
The roughness of your chin or chest
Or the way you were in bed—all fine
It’s only the rough words
Harsh awakening
Words to control me
Words that betray me, dismiss me
Those ain’t gonna work
No matter how strong you are
Or how big my ass is
I am not made of flesh
And you cannot pin me down
62. Faust in Tuscany
I met a drunk guy named Faust
As I waited for my favorite band
Animaux Formidables to come on stage
Faust only spoke Italian and French, no English
We muddled through some flirting
So I have a date if I want
To fuck a Tunisian/Italian contractor
But I don’t
I want to hear his story,
flirt a little maybe
Be noticed every now and then,
Not too often.
Look at all these normal people
With no idea what’s about to happen
Defibrillation, face removal
But I’m excited
And the glitter will arrive
And we will be freed
Transported
to the stars and to the grave
The separation
Is not as painful
As one would think
Quite nice really
To be liberated
From flesh with all its constraints
To enter the atmosphere, astral realm
Glitter everywhere
63. I got drunk
I got drunk
Off too much wine
And lost a lover
And a hundred euros cash
But that’s not too bad
Considering how reckless I was
It’s time to come back
Come back to my senses
Dry out
Be sane, and responsible
Get back on the rails
Maybe I’ve used up my allotments
Assigned before incarnation
Sex, sugar, cigarettes
The miles I’ve driven
Now I take the train,
Or stay home.
64. Rome Again
Rome is a hard place
And I am very soft
But somehow I make it here
Become stronger, daje forza
I love a hard man
And I am very soft
My heart blancmange
And he is full of teeth
This is a hard world
And we are very soft
When we enter it
Brittle at our exit
Defenses arranged against the hardness
Softness sacrificed
As time gnaws our bones
And claws our hearts
I will endure this hard world, hard man, hard city
Softness is not weakness
Never has been
The strength I have is greater than hardness
And until that distinction
Between strength and hardness is discerned
Not much will change
Eternal city, made of broken stones
65. If I waited
I think if I waited
I would miss half of life, or more
I’m here to do everything
All of it
Live, live
If I wait for you, or them
or some other
I would spend my life in the prison
Of the waiting room
And not at Il Margutta
My plate is full, too full
Of all these amazing vegetarian dishes
I wanted to taste all of them
All the created flavors
Eggplant, artichokes, peppers
Greens, avocado, risotto
Some crazy good pea soup
I feel health returning
To my blood, to this body I put through it
There are two loners here, solo diners
Me, and this guy
If we sat together
The world would be happy,
(Or thinks it would, but will never be)
I feel some judgement from others
For my solitary state. He
Probably does too
But I’ve learned, I’ve learned
If I waited for you, for them
I would have never tried this pea soup
66. A Day Worth Living
I will not ask
For what is mine
By right
The design, the game
We built ourselves
Before we took this trip
To Planet Earth
Stacked with lessons to learn
Obstacles to overcome
Faith to harvest, doubt to banish
The people
All the people who come in and out
Of this, our time
All here with us
To help us learn as we help them
And what is this great lesson?
Sometimes it feels too hard
Too hard to keep going
But every day
Every day
The mercies are new
There is just enough
Just enough
To make
The day worth living
All we have to do
Is be present,
Search the sky and
Listen.
The wind
The birds
Foretell our story
67. Slot Machine
I bet
And pull the lever
The wheels turn.
Max bet
Bet down, bet up
I win a little
Every now and then
But mostly lose.
My total number
Of credits dwindling
Down, to nothing
Time to call it a day
I know the probability
Of hitting the jackpot
Is next to zero, the algorithm
Coded to ensure cumulative loss
I win a little
Every now and then
But not enough, not enough
To keep playing the game
You win, my love.
Like slots, this game we’ve played.
It was all a gamble
That didn’t pay.
68. How Deep is Your Love
I am in the ancient waters
Sailing into Crete
Labyrinth, Minotaur
Everyone trying to find a way
To trap the monster within
And yet it is apparent
As I watch this sea
And see this sun
There is only one escape
Route from all the churning waves
That fill our veins, invade our minds
Waves of doubt, fear, restlessness
I read that there is a pulse
Deep beneath the ocean
Every twenty-six seconds,
A heartbeat to the earth itself
A rhythm without explanation
In these ancient waters
Sailing into Crete
Listening to that old song
That seems to find me wherever I go
How deep is your love
Trust the rhythm without explanation.
Follow the thread of gold, and thus find freedom.
69. This
This
Is for the hard days
When you don’t know why
You bother
In the sun
On top of the world in Greece
Listening to techno and drinking
White wine
This supremely perfect moment
Is for the hard days
When you don’t know why
Why you bother
Sure it’s full of tourists
From all over the world
And I am just another one
Santorini, famous place
Blue domes and all that
People who don’t believe
Believe in something
Enough to get out of bed
Trek across the globe to
Order some wine and coffee and baklava
Climb to the top of the world
See what’s up here
At the Panorama Boutique Hotel—
Techno and audacity
70. Even the Wind Stopped
I have arrived
With thousands of others
As if it is an everyday occurrence
As for some it is
But I
This little woman
Have arrived
In Istanbul
I heard the call to prayer
An hour ago
And there are minarets within my view
Lucian, the Romanian bartender
Is uncomfortable
With my wild sexuality
But I don’t mind
I lock her down, all the time
Saudela
That goddess of seduction
She stays quiet, mostly
But in Crete…
Those crazy Minoans
And every now and then…
Damn. I remember her
Even though I tried to sink
Her into the Tiber
So even the Wind
Beloved Zephyr
That blew me here
This strange ship
Fantasy
The Wind let me be, let me rest
In the Bosphorus strait
Drinking good champagne
A Peruvian poured, a good pour
Then gin and tonic Lucian begrudgingly concocted
And the Ritz awaits my arrival,
And the Wind stopped
And all will be well
And the Wind will
Carry me back home
71. All the women are pretty
All the women are pretty
And all the souls are pure
And there is just garbage
That separates the truth
From what we see every day
Don’t believe the lies, the crap
The detritus
Remember what is pure
Remember
You know
and I know
And they know
And he knows
And she knows
And we know
You kept me here and it was
A little nothing in this whole wide world
Of something, and the nothing
Was fun and impure and ugly
And we both liked it a lot
72. Why do I
Why do I profane your holy temple
Not with booze and cigarettes
But with doubt and fear
Worry, stress
The seven deadly sins
Gluttony lust wrath envy
Greed sloth
Pride
I am yours, claimed by name
Purify this temple,
Keep me sacred
And holy
Seeking the path of righteousness
Heading home.
73. Peace
Peace and solitude
Is what I’m offered and I like it
But would I prefer camaraderie
And the chaos and drama
Others bring to the table
I hear some Corfiots singing
Engines revving, some bachelor party
Or graduation or protest
My curiosity is unaroused
I will watch this young boy play ball
With his sister
And the sun change the color of the sky
That is enough for now
And that is all I know to seek—
The sufficient for the present moment
74. Shoes
Walked into vintage clothing stores in Rome
Today looking for shoes
Shoes for my daughter’s wedding
Went into some “made in Italy” leather goods stores too
but everything seemed a little off
Reminded me of dating
These old shoes someone already wore
That musty smell
No amount of trendy display can erase
The shiny but cheap goods that have
Something fake about them,
Some lie attached I can’t quite discern
I will find some shoes
Somewhere, probably Macy’s
On 34th Street when I go to
The flower show next week
All I know is
I’m not buying those old shoes
I’m not buying the fake ones either
I won’t go barefoot.
Before too much longer,
I will find the right shoes.
75. Something Shifted
Something shifted
this time
And I am fine
And you are fine
And we are fine
And there is no need to
Fear worry doubt
There is no need to
Do anything
Except live, day by day
And so we shall.
And this is all I can offer, to love
All you are with all I am
And eventually
Unless this is all bullshit
Which is entirely possible
Eventually everything
Will make sense somehow
And even now all
Is as it should be
So see you sometime.
Or not. Either way
The journey is perfect.
76. Viking
Gettin’ outta here
Gotta be somewhere better
Than this land of ice
Misery keeping me mean
Bitter, cold, restless, ruthless
77. Father Time
Father Time, you thief
As promised, as predicted
You stole all my babies away
I loved them, loved being their mother
The greatest joy of my life
You stole them, and my husband too
Now what? Get old and wait to die I guess
Find whatever joy and pleasure in life I can
But know the best days are long gone
Hopefully recorded and can be lived again
I guess you did your job
And I did mine
And this is what was meant to be
Whether or not I any longer have meaning
78. Wordsmith
It is not a skill
Most endeavor to undertake
Becoming more obsolete
With each passing day
My expertise in nihilism
And dissolution
And the twisted, cynical nature
Of my entire generation
Stubbornly keep my fingers
On the keys, the keys
The keystroke—ah, what words are these
Because somewhere
In my jaded heart, and yours
We hope the key is here
The combination of letters
That somehow unlocks truth
And makes sense of this mess
We inhabit, and the nihilist in us
Secretly cries mercy, mercy
Give me peace, and understanding.
79. Which Words
Some words
Kill the magic of the world
Too much explanation
Let me dwell in whatever
Innocence and ignorance
Is left to me
I don’t want to know
I want to believe in love
Not limerence
Alignment, entanglement,
Alternating current
Whether or not it’s real
It’s easy to call a woman mad,
Witch, hysterical, wrong
The handmaid of a long tale
Of misogyny and subservience
It’s easy to call her cow or Karen
Bitch, slut, whore, all the names
With which you like to pin her down
Even mama means boob
I will have my magic
I will have my magic and eat it too
I am all the names you call me
And the spelling is mine
80. World’s End
Maybe we are at
The end of the world
But isn’t it lovely
That there’s still grass and trees
Birds and sunshine
I told Celia and Jack
I am not writing about
Cupcakes and unicorns
I try to write something real
Say something real
In this artificial world
But it’s true, right now
I hear a bird
Telling me about this day
What will unfold
If only I could understand her
We were raised on terror
Of the bomb, annihilation, and chaos
Global political madness
So many rules, so many borders
And no boundaries
That say that’s enough
Enough bullshit, enough fear
So I will say it. I call
Bullshit
On this nonsense.
Let’s Go Crazy just played
On my speaker, and the
Best thing I ever heard Colbert say
Was when he quoted Prince the other day
We were raised up, the Man and the
Elevator always trying to bring us down
Let’s go crazy, dearly beloved
Let’s be mad in this insane world
Hang tough, One is coming
Until then, let’s go crazy together
We are alive now
We have one another to love.
We are not on our own.