Everyday Revolutions

Friday, April 30, 2010

Haiku for Leah

Fermenting love thrives
backroads winding endlessly
in between thoughts feelings sighs

Thursday, April 22, 2010

elementary soundtrack

Santa Cruz sun shines onto the brown rug framing me in a rectagular block of morning heat. I sort through records, fantasizing myself into the story of the album covers. Stevie Wonder, Rita Coolidge, Carole King, Chuck Mangione, Carlos Santana....oh and Barry Manilow. When I set the needle on the song I need I refold myself on the floor, in the sun and asing, absentmindedly stroking the marble bald head bust of Vladimir Lenin. He usually sits next to the books about the Sandinistas and the Cuban Revolution. My five year old fingers wrap directly over the smooth nape of his chisled neck and ears.
My mom pays tapes of Fania All Stars on Sundays while we clean house. "Come dance with me Mija." She beckons to me leaning the vacumn on the couch, Willie Colon belts out,"....se esta quemando el barrio, llamn los bomberos, no se lo que hago yo, la casa se me quemo. La gente esta comentando, que Willie Colon es loco...."
Mom is writing. Coursework for her Masters in Latin America Literature. I stare for decades of minutes at the stylized hand gestures, full red lips of Sade as she sings about a Diamond Life and something called a Sweet Taboo. Tape case is scratched, plastic white fissures cover her face, I slip out the glossy paper cover and fixate on her face. How could this cavernous, round and sorrowful sound come from this face?