The Easy Walk-Away

It’s getting so old, so tired,
and it acts so new, so hep
so revolutionary…

It’s mere cold-love
all-dolled up in
cherry chapstik
and cheap mascara.

Nowadays it masquerades
as a mantra, this year’s model
on last year’s red carpet walk
while the fawning gather
and swoon…

while cold love kisses hearts
with curses, vows, orders
to walk away quick at the first sign
of imperfection or humanity.

Well, I like the trees that twist in the moonlight
and scrabble hard on the stones
and grab rocks, not to throw
but to grind into dirt
and eat from!

Joshua, Bristle Cone, Pinyon,
Mesquite, Juniper…

yeah, I’ll take them anyday,
thorns, stingy stubbornness
and faithful all day long
for centuries…

ain’t no walk-away in them
for sure…
ain’t no easy walk-way,
and my kind of people
those bristly-ass trees of
gnarled stubborn stick-to-it.

Big Mamas and lil mama
with a call of wake up
the moon is up
and canyon calling clear

in the night,
away from the easy walk-away
and into the long present
Today

Curiously Creative

“I have noticed that when all the lights are on,
people tend to talk about what they are doing –
their outer lives.

“Sitting round in candlelight or firelight,
people start to talk about how they are feeling –
their inner lives.
They speak subjectively,
they argue less,
there are longer pauses.

“To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative.
I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall,
but not if I switch on the lights –
then I start thinking about projects,
deadlines, demands,

“and the shadows and shapes
of the house become objects,
not suggestions, things that need to done,
not a background to thought.”
— Jeanette Winterson, “Why I Adore the Night”