Coffee is a drug
I remind myself
when I'm surprised
I'm shaking.
I wanna’ get high
on nature
but I’m alone in my bedroom.
So I watch the moon rise
from my balcony
with my collection of dying herbs.
At least my mint
is thriving.
One gardening forum went so far
as to call it an invasive species.
I relate to this
like a half-remembered dream.
Tamara_R told me to prune the flowers
of the basil
lest the plant channel all its
precious resources
to bloom,
leaving its prized leaves
to wither.
So I’m snapping necks
with a clumsy white thumb,
ignorant of metaphor.
Under the brazen blue sky
the coyotes call for night,
when they’ll descend on the alleyways
and fill the valley with sound:
screeching cats
and the fireworks
that go off
two months before and
three months after
the 4th of July.
Like a sound check
and an encore
that last half a year
give or take.
If you live on the East side
you know what I'm talking about.
These days,
if you’re reading this,
and if you live on the east side,
you were probably not born there.
You might have been born
somewhere beautiful
and never knew about
The Problem
and now you’re part of
The Problem.
The Problem is endlessly multi-faceted
and, at the same time,
one-bulbous-mass.
No one is immune
and yoga can’t save the world.