Jesusita Fire

First date
I drove out to Carpinteria
it was hard not to stop
as I drove,
watching thick white plumes,
smoke pouring off our mountains
a gaping wound of steaming smoke instead of blood
30,000 people being evacuated from Santa Barbara
staring in my rear-view mirror, sun bright orange from fire
long late afternoon shadows on the road from
smoke clouds hanging over us, like a storm
I pulled up to acres of green grass,
almost to the edge of the road, ocean reaching up coast line
a couple houses, scattered, dilapidating, charming
a red wooden barn, I could see his window, felt warm
then I saw him, walking confidently towards me
a smile spreading on his boyish Canadian face,
pre-faded blue t-shirt, jeans, a tech guy
"Can we check out the fire from here?" I pleaded
worry bleeding into me,
my son at his grandma's under warning evacuation
smoke where I'd been staying, windows open in the heat
ash falling from the sky, phone ringing all night
evacuating from my friend's house,
talking to him on the phone as I watched helicopters,
staring up at them above me, their underbelly,
surprised at the brightness,
red, green, and white bright lights, blinking
sound of helicopters chopping loudly through air,
dumping water in the canyon above us
"If you want to watch the fire," he said,
"you'll get a better view from my porch"
it was dark out, a full moon hanging in the smoke
we climbed up the wooden steps
our eyes glueing to the ridge
I could see flames licking up and down the ridge from here
he was shocked, it felt so close, too close
he circled his arms around me, protectively
then he focused on my back
his hands reaching under my shirt
as I watched, fear mixed with wanting
rubbing slowly at my skin, moving up my back
he'd just taken a massage class
I relaxed, turned in the dark,
to kiss him for the first time,
magnetized to each other
lips moving rhythmically
my tongue adjusting to his like an ocean current
a woman came out down below
I asked him if we should stop
he shrugged, tilted my head back at a new angle
like an experiment
bending me back, kissing me deeply
I loved that, his fingers, pulling my hair
angling me into him
"Your a good kisser," he said
"I am?" I asked
"I think so," he shrugged
I told him,"have a good night," at the door
I heard him say,"Yeah," like he wasn't sure he was
or like he couldn't believe I'd left
on the way home, behind a fire truck,
embers flew on the road
I fought back fear, remembering
our tongues moving like a swirl of fire

Tea Fire

I called him, "There's a big fire in the canyon, will you come over?"
He said, "Yeah, I can't see it from here. I'm on my way."
Flames leaping
from where I was
leaping from across the canyon
taller than me, wind rising them higher
higher and spreading over, into the canyon
hungry
Fear creaping into my breathing
If they were that tall, how tall were they?
they must be 70 ft. high flames with wind blowing across them
later, on the news, they were that tall
watching, helpless, waiting for him to come
I heard his voice first, "Where is she?" he asked
he slid open the glass door, into wind and backyard

walking up steep stone steps to where I was frozen
glued to the flames, worrying
my friends were up there in that canyon
He reached me, circled his arms about my waist
even though we were friends, it felt warm, good, safe
we watched in silence for a moment
"I'd better go," he said, nervously.
"What?" I asked, shocked
"I didn't know it was so close..." he said calmly, "I might need to evacuate."
I was shocked, instead of the warmth of his arms holding me safe,
instead of relief, I saw him heading toward those flames,
flames leaping stories high
I couldn't let him go alone. I had to help,
yet, fear and wanting safety, away from flames, overpowering
I saw myself waiting, crazy with worry,
it would be worse, here, safe, terrified
"I'm coming with you," I said with conviction.
"Let's go," he replied. Immediate. No hesitation.
I called my girlfriend. "We're evacuating now," she shouted into the phone. Click.
At least she was going to be safe...I hope
We got flashlight batteries at 711. It was eerie.

We got to his place. Thick with smoke, like you couldn't breathe.
The neighbors were already loading their cars.
I watched neighbors scurry to the top of the driveway,
converge, and talk, looking for the fire
you couldn't see it yet, you could smell it
it was on everyone, thick and heavy
burning at your lungs
sheriffs drove through, yelling through their bull horn
"This is a mandatory evacuation."
Some of the neighbors were old,
"Don't ask me," she said in her thick Italian.
"I woke up, you have to leave, they told me, so I'm leaving."
we went back inside
"We have to take the guitar," I said, unplugging it.
"These are just things. They're replaceable," he said.
"Let's just get you out of here."
I felt a little better, feeling valuable.
He wanted the nicknacks,
the little blue smurf his ex had given him in Spain
I carried, carefully to the car, porcelain from Prague
all of his travels, memories in little tiny things.
The sheriff drove by yelling out of a bullhorn.
"This is a mandatory evacuation. You need to evacuate now."
They drove through. Talked to people. Kept driving.
I was so nervous.
"This is so silly," he said.
"It feels weird, to move everything out and then
have to move it back in...
that would be the best of all outcomes, though."
We got back to my parents late that night, the car filled with his stuff.
He woke up early the next morning and drove over to check on things.
The next day I was told I had the day off. I was exhausted.

A few days later, we hauled all his stuff back in.
Rehung the paintings,
instruments from Jamaica back on the wall...
This was the best plausible outcome,
being able to move back in a few days later.
"It seems kind of silly, moving out, moving back in," he said.
200 homes burnt in the Tea Fire
It's been months now,
my girlfriend is living in a hotel with 3 boys and a dog.
3 boys who desperately need a home and have no money.
The insurance has refused to pay the hotel bill...
every day she drags her feet across the lobby,
embarrassed she can't pay the bill.
I worry. I try to take her son out on the weekends...
I try to make him happy in a world that has
turned instantly upside down...
if I had the money I would give it to her...
but I don't so, I give her my time.

Fog

I watched fog drifting in towards us
Big blue mountains in the background
with fog whisping in waves
big solid white waves
cover ghost oil platforms
as if they were live ships
drift across the ocean
hovering, waiting to move in like a predator
cumin, rich Indian spices floating up the canyon
reminding me of childhood and incense and the 60's
I looked at the Spanish tile adobe
which house, which million dollar house had a wife from India
with spices that floated up through the canyon?

Ageing

problems, his father walked away
I listened to my son
he waited and wanted

I tried to fix them
on my own
I could feel years
years fall into wrinkles around my eyes

Packaging Matters

I fell asleep with my window open
lavendar hand knitted blanket my mamaw made
wrapped around me
I buried myself

I opened my eyes to cold October air
as cold as I was awake
coldness opened my eyes

at the coffee shop I noticed
Beautifully wrapped sugar colored witch lollipops
Halloween coffins with edible skeletons inside
all this American packaging felt like my mamaw's blanket
something I know

I noticed the books I designed
how different it was
how you could slap headlines on with glue
a little crooked

I noticed how perfect the witch was,
bright sugar enameled details on her clothes,
little pink buttons
green eyes
glaring purple hat
sharp, crisp, clear
even in sugar you could see
how important it is to look purrrfeccctttt...
is this only an Americanism?

French Au Pair

I walked into the kitchen
early afternoon
she was wearing
a short grey nightshirt
an expensive one that tucked in ribbons at the bottom

I watched soap suds
drain from sink
I watched her do dishes
I watched her bare legs
as if they were some extension of herself
into the world of showing
not caring
wanting
a catwalk of showing off,
I heard her laughing on the phone to her boyfriend
Did he care?

I wondered how
why
I tried to remember a time when
I didn't mind doing dishes in a short grey t-shirt

I have grown so self-conscious
wanting
waiting
for so many years

Bluuu & 500 miles ahead

I like the way you push me up against your car
way you kiss me,
sudden quick kisses
lightning impulses
way you breathe in quickly
catching your breathe
kisses meaning something

curled up in the car
you ask me tentatively, "What's wrong?"
I shudder
watching rain come down on your windshield
wet, soft
driving past garish skeletons
Halloween set ups in the front yard
I shudder thinking of you leaving
heart wrenching agony that comes with it

You were talking about moving
about how renters don't like overnighters
leaving
word flashed again like
nightmare skeletons in the yard
leaving, mixed with past flashbacks
flashes of how much it hurt every time he left
every time my ex would leave
He was there, then
suddenly not there at all
I waited after school,
cold wind growing
knawing into dread as he didn't show up

leaving
when you move to another city to get a better job
I'm missing you terribly and I'm trying to imagine
how I'll feel when your gone
I try to tell myself
you were never here in the first place
You never changed your phone number to 805
I feel...that missing feeling
like how you said
something's missing...when I was sick
didn't show up for work

I talked the night before about
putting my finger in your back pocket
pink clouds scudding across the sky
that night in the parking lot at the News-Press

The day I was sick, when I wasn't there,
you told me
something's missing
I'm trying so hard not to see how much I'll miss you
how attached I've become