It’s hard to find the beginning with the lights on
a game of jacks and sand in my underwear
from Pismo beach
at 13 my diary came with a lock

I still have the key

I believed
baseball was for anyone who loved the ball
you had to have a bat to play
I only had a glove

A clown’s head bobs in the back window
he said I felt that way
healing words from a Cuban
$400 to cleanse me

I still have the beads

Talking in a darkened dining room
white double buttoned jacket
little woman pretending
no more customers tonight

two little spirits spiriting
tiny voices from sunup
to sundown
now and again I forget!

I still make excuses

An empty sanctuary
me squeezing thoughts on the alter
waiting for an appearance
no matter from where

I still remember the quiet

Disco lights and polished dance floors
tall chairs comforted me
but Jack gave me nerve
until the lights came up

I still listen to Rock n Roll

A blue moon is waxing
her little eyes constantly asking
is it my turn?
I give up my place in line

I still think I’ll find love

Fake money that feeds us
tellers stamping welfare checks
clothes that fit someone else’s tastes
my couch isn’t even mine

I still imagine what mine would look like

The choice was an easy one
she asked me for dignity
I guarded it for 332 days
she kept her dignity, I kept the love

I still think it was a good deal

Scalpels should never cut grieving women
save the choices for after the healing
if the ankle bone is connected to the foot bone
the uterus is connected to my desire

I still miss it

Make up and high heels
backing up the big man
titles that promote self esteem
pay that demotes the modern dream

I still work my ass off for nothing

Creature comforts cost me nothing
Ideals really don’t fade
Take the leap—make the grade
If the odds aren’t taken they’re wasted

I still believe in second chances and I take them

~~ by