i have a son

I have a son
one apple-headed boy ready to run face first into any and everything if you fix your fingers to tickle
when he sleeps
his feet are in my back no matter how I reposition him
my girl packs us snacks and we listen to good Kanye West and drink Capri Suns like a bawse
I have two sons
another
long-limbed and thin who will talk your face off about Iron Man, Tron and Michael Jackson
the first time we met
he climbed into my lap like my arms will always be the safety net he needs
both boys
who can’t say my name
but I don’t mind little voices calling me Pwin-cess
either wanted to walk like me
or wear their hair like me
who both asked me
whether I was a boy or a girl
my first son
was a little boy we babysitted while his mother went to school and work
part-time parents
we taught him Kemet and ankh and
I can’t remember how old he is now
my second son
was born to a woman who loves like supernova explosions
he taught me discipline and patience and
his birth father will always have a say
what they don’t tell you about loving women
is that you will eventually love their kids
even if you’ve never had one
even if you don’t want one
even if you share no blood ties just
shoe ties too tired to sleep so you watch Finding Nemo til dawn
read him his favorite book til he memorizes every word and wants another next bedtime
combined
I’ve spent about two years with my son and it’s hard
not to feel like a deadbeat dad cause you can’t convince his real mother to let you visit
I see his face in the little boys who walk past
when me and her split
I heard him call my name echo in my brain but I can’t block it out
sometimes he appears in my dreams and he’s still holding my hand as we cross the street
still smiling full teeth
men who sow seeds and leave will always draw ire from me
what they don’t tell you about loving women with kids
Is that if you give it time
you will want to be both mother and father to this diamond precious jewel pillar
you will want to help carve a better man than your father so your life will gain meaning
your parenting instincts will kick in and you're ready to fight for a little kid
who will grow to love Raja cause in Aladdin
the princess leaves and that ain't no fairy tale
I have two sons
my biggest fear is that they will grow to be men who don't recognize me
who blame me for their mother's cold
young kings picky-eating, loud-talking, buckle-seating futures
who'll see me as another soul who chose the world over his mother and their home
who will think of me as "that one girl"
when my close friend got pregnant
I read pregnancy books and
learned to swaddle make bottles and promised to hand sew a blanket for my new son
I have to remind myself that
he is not my son
they are not my sons
breaking over the horizon with a new chance to be a parent again
in my head, I have two sons
growing up in a trap-door world
without my extra safety net

woman in turquoise

*this poem was birthed during a writing workshop from a Sherman Alexie prompt.

I don't know how much of myself would have been left when I got to work.
the weight was breaking me into breadcrumbs too few to get me back home
one ear bud in
one ear bud out
I saw her sitting to my right enough to catch the tune she was humming
feet on solid ground over Badu's Orange Moon
her aura felt like safe. she
sends me strength in messages that life is supposed to break you into
breadcrumbs. it's supposed to be
blind man cause the spirit will lead but all I see
is this beautiful woman in turquoise singing my heart's melody
and I can't stop staring
Whitney, the little girl in me
wants to lay my head in her lap and guide her fingers through my locs.
she's beauty in a way I've only seen in past lives
with full lips and bright auras
but I sit across from her on the train cause I don't wanna be rude
or weird.
she messages me that goddess will send me angels and messages when I am
ready to leave. I left a breadcrumb at
Mockingbird station. I cried white marks at White Rock
I watched my angel continue on at LBJ and thanked the gods
for her blessings
followed breadcrumbs to work and sometimes I see the same angel
at the station. I haven't broken into sugar since then
I want to tell her how she saved me that day
how her silent singing spoke so much peace into my being that
I floated through a Thursday like cloud
seven. I want to thank her but I figure
she'd have no idea what I'm talking about

Albuquerque, you're awesome!

Last week, I spent some time in Albuquerque, New Mexico sharing poems, buying souvenirs and eating great food. I was only scheduled to do two shows, but ended up featuring at two events, dropping in a radio show, recording a podcast, reading at a few open mics and leading a workshop! Whew!

All the thanks to Jessica Helen Lopez and Zachary Kluckman for having me out and being such awesome hosts.

You can take a listen to the podcast I did with Nick Furious right down there.



And take a look at some of the photos! Albuquerque has incredible graffiti. . . . . .awesome stores. . . and hidden gems. This is a picture of an interview with Allen Ginsberg printed in a small booklet in 1971. There aren't many copies anymore, but I encountered it thanks to John Crawford. Can't wait to go back!