desert songs

This is what doing looks like. For me, right now at least, doing means taking the thoughts always on my mind, the dream list of things I want to spend my time practicing, and actually just doing them. No excuses or time monsters getting in the way. Today was my last day of work until the new year, and I'm starting my resolutions early. This is more a shift in how I spend my time and what I create-while also doing things that are necessary like cleaning my makeup brushes, making split pea soup and freezing it for the first weeks of January work lunches, jogging every morning, leaving post-its in all the saved issues of Sunset and Bon Apetit. I feel like the queen of time management at work, so why can't I get a handle on it in other parts of my life?

Readers, I call you out of the woodwork to comment and help me critique this new writing, or just to hear a hello and learn more about you. I see y'all are reading this, so please drop a line.

After my trip to the desert I've had the urge to get the feelings of the air and space into writing. Here are a few short pieces:


This is what California looked like
all brown
before the sun came up and brought these
sad filled things.
The Joshua Tree split into Ys
and grow where they want, not everywhere
pushed around by boulders
rocks on rocks, ropes pulling down
plants that cure all our problems
plenty of caves to hide in
not enough to live.

The sun sets at 4:37pm
not behind a mountain
as low as it goes, until it goes
and we sleep until the rabbits climb to eat.
____

The day has hours that are brown like the miles of desert.
It's morning or night
and it only lasts long when you're worried.
Put it away, under the tortoise
make a garland of the orange poppy that grows up from rock
and set out towards the shrubs.

____

You took me to the desert to be safe.
I prayed the night before for a universe of space
to cleanse,
to cure the ball of whatever right there in the middle of my chest,
but I was scared.
The miles of nothing could shock or startle,
it could be too quiet
or not dark enough
I wanted to be hot and sweat
and see lots of jean cut offs with boots
I wanted a woman's old cracked hands to hold me.

____

On the night before the shortest day of the year
the desert is going to stay asleep
and ignore the time, the sun
it will imagine the moon takes over
and won't let anyone sleep.
What would be worse-a planet hitting Earth,
or the moon turning on us?
Pleasing some with what they've always wanted
more time to do nothing, or everything-
we're too different to know
which way it will sway.

In the picture they will throw snow
at home we'll string up lights
to stay in that yellow warmth
when all you need to do is let go of what you want to do
and take out the wooden crate from the bottom shelf.
You won't need much by this new white light.