Golden skeleton keys spin above head like
halo at 33rpm
back porch fresh crispfoggy colored air
to be back in the Mission
in the bosom of my West coast family of friends
so grateful for the generosity
art gifts for them
from the roots, from the past
from the underground..the dank heavy air..thick with soft warm dust
I re connected with the eyes of a giant baby bird made by crust and dirt
and I connected with pondscum, lovely and playful as ever...
and dust...who my heart feels good around
all these spirits I know,
good people. kind people. open people. creative people. blooming people. moving people.
The last two years in NYC sealed...stamped in the hot wax...an impression, a castle of sunlight, a heart beat that ends the song
a bird flying from the window, keys in its claws....