Well here I am in chilly, wet Baja California
under a a grey sky- it may have been raining forever
a black and white movie on the telly
La Cookie watches Hugo falling into a book he has in his palm
the roar of main street traffic passing passing splashing outside drowns the low volume
click click
I begin the erraticly shake the words out of me from these new California experiences
i crossed the border into the christmas light mexican night
palm trees take a second to pine ones all of a sudden
and the reason escaped me
but the pointsettias and the nativity scene
make me feel more like my own mother breezed through before i got here
if that were possible
november second day of the dead and the father here went to the ghosts
there is a missing here
you can say yes yes it is ok but no there is a pain
the gap shows
pet dogs aren't as good at lying
It's December and you really think 50F is cold?
You have wire snowmen and reindeer tinsel and happy birthday Jesus
and you don't even know what snow is
bees transplant pollen, butterflies bomp around
the heads of dripping surfboys coming back from roiling high waters
crows talk from the tops of the telephone poles
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