we stand scorched by sun
for a staff pic no one wants
on fragile bleachers
this after staff talk
the same pointless PowerPoint
that’s plagued our careers
after late release
of the rowdiest last class
prisoners of bells
after no planning
scheduling glitches abound
grade books that won’t load
after absent kids
gone for testing, Muslim Eid
gaping holes in class
after percussion
the endless percussion of
kids who can’t sit still
after fall won’t start
with no air conditioning
and no new pay raise
and you want to teach?
it sucks the life out of you
(but—kids blow it back)
truth
Leaves
stomach tumbling
with sick realization:
innocence now lost
just three days ago
she was climbing up the limbs
of youth’s bulging tree
her arms strong and thin
(but what was bulging inside,
ready to burst free?)
to know that she knows
kills me from the inside out
(as a mom, a slave)
failures drop like leaves
of youth’s impending autumn
to crunch with my woes
i’ve always loved leaves
(but there’s no satisfaction
in this kind of crunch.)
she searches hollows
to fill a hollow within
(i’ve searched too. in vain.)
to know that she knows
brings every dark doubt to light
(no tree-limbed safe-net)
what will she climb next?
(the strong arms of a stranger
who will leave no leaves…)
a mom’s greatest fear:
to lose children to branches
that i cannot reach
Denver ReCycled
through cycling
in and out of neighborhoods
brick by brick, i fell
love lost, and then won
bungalow to bungalow
my city wooed me
the wheels spun me back
(sold my heart to Cheesman Park)
from bad-boy breakups
all along back streets
Park Hill, Cole, Cory Merrill
like love at first spin
bikes are trendy now
(they’ll dress like freaks to prove it)
but my bike love lives
in this uphill ride
with mountain sunset backdrop
my girls guiding me
i see them falling–
street by street, scraped knees and all–
in love with my love
Cross Country
weekend leftovers
murmur an early Monday
in my groaning gut
technology blues
plague two classes, one meeting
forced into nonsense
data collection
begins my singular plan
till phone rings: sick kid
frazzled packing up
for a stomach flu faker
then two extra kids
but that is not all!
cross country registration
at the last moment
my middle girl runs!
two days a week, a new plan:
laps around the park
(he can cook dinner–
we’ll eat late like back in Spain,
shed this U.S. stress)
and i will run too–
take tree-lined tech-free views home
(run free, not ragged)
YOLO
my first orgasm
given to a boy now dead
life’s too fucking short
my childhood park
lit under a cloudy moon
is what calms me down
i’d walk the world
to find my way back to you
eighteen years in, love
we’re all grown up now
me a woman, you a man
let’s let bygones… be
there’s no other moon
to shine city-bright tonight
just my love, your love
Two Too Many
end of day feet up
hours on end of walking
then pickup, dinner…
day two of two jobs
the runaround’s new to me
exhaustion takes time
the girls say it best:
hang the dolls on bike rack noose
and call it a day
Problem Solving
she wants an answer
and i want a solution:
not an easy mix
i stare at Wash Park
paddles, crayfish everywhere
and think of that day
when we were problems
we were each other’s problems
and that was okay
she’d never been there
and we pedaled that huge bike
each one disabled
we ate what we ate
we chewed what we chewed: bitter
yet: so fucking sweet
and why i hate now:
because i have everything
(nothing without her)
money doesn’t buy
that once-in-a-lifetime love
trapped inside boxes
so what’s my answer?
there’s no easy solution
to a broken heart
but let us fix it
pedal away from Wash Park
be wholly ourselves
Dusks and Dawns
red sky at night brings…
allergies, fires, candles…
and love. my love. love!
red sky at morning
sailors give warning: heart bursts
for what’s lost at night
Daykeep
eyes burning, itching
allergies taking over
lost words from far back
yet, i’m so happy
house tucked into dream pocket
i could let this go
this and my students
who deserve America
(this dream we all have)
and i’ll fight for them
and she’ll praise him, she’ll praise him
(but he wouldn’t fight)
and we all know it–
how deep my love grows. hard ass?
abso-fuck-lutely
hard ass, heart of gold.
that you can’t forget. you can’t.
and why now, why now?
cause it’s easy now?
cause you have a house, a home?
cause we’re good enough?
cause we were good then,
as golden as these lost days.
i’ll keep my days. thanks.
Wrung Out
my words get twisted
like drying-on-line laundry
that the sun can’t catch
Step Write Up 