THREE VIRGINS #3

Virgen de la Paloma

In this picture

the Virgin

is

surrounded

by

soft colors

and

light.

She

is

middle-aged

half-smiling

and

double-chinned.

Her

skin

is

soft and smooth.

She

is

crowned

with

laurel and flowers.

There

are

twenty pearls

at

her throat

a

floral brooch

pinned

at

her

neckline.

Her

frock

is rose.

She

is

draped

in 

a blue

and

star-studded

robe.

A

hummingbird

in a

flash

of

golden light

is

embroidered

at

her

breast.

She

cradles

a

bundle

of

Madonna Lillies

(flor de azucena)

and

sits

in

clouds

looking

at

you.

THE TEETH OF TIME

The Past is toothless.  It gums the great silence and nothing changes.  The past opened wide is a black hole, sucking everything in, letting nothing out, but belching hot air.

The Present has a fine set of choppers.  It bites, and gnaws, and chews.  Every moment grist for the mill of now.  Crack a tooth on a hard truth, spit it out, it will grow back.  Teeth crack, truth soldiers on.  The mouth of now, its perpetual cud, the ever masticating cow.

The Future has fangs that puncture heads and pop brains from skulls.  The fangs of the future drag along the surface raking up wishes, dreams, hopes, and desires, imprisoning all such things in eternity's maw.

THREE VIRGINS #2

VIRGEN DOLOROSA SENTAOA

In this painting

the Virgin

dressed in purple

and

robed

in darkest blue

sits

left arm extended

hand open

right hand

at her heart.

Seven

deeply thrust

swords

fan across

her

back and shoulders.

Her

heart

has been

p

i

e

r

c

e

d

by a

s

t

i

l

e

t

t

o

.

Her head

is tilted up

and to the right.

Her gaze -

heavenward.

A

golden

aura

r

i

s

e

s

into the night.

She does not bleed.

(Marginalia:  a crown of thorns with 13 spikes, three iron nails.)

THREE VIRGINS

THREE VIRGINS

#1.  Untitled

In the painting

the Virgin

supported by cherubs

floats

above

the

severed

hands feet

&

thorn-wrapped

heart

of

her son.

Robed in black

hands folded
her

heart
has been

pierced

by

a

thin
blade.

She looks

to the right

and down
her gaze is soft.

The only blood - her son's.

Marginalia:  An empty cross draped with Veronica's veil, a ladder, a staff topped with a balled up, blood smeared cloth, a crowing rooster.

THE TIMES I DIED

The first time I died

We all smoked cigarettes from a pack of Luckies I unrolled out of the short sleeves of my James Dean dreams

She had all the knives in a chef's kit tattooed across her arms and shoulders

My heart, my heart of wild delight plumed  and comet-crossed the night.


Guanajuato, Mexico
December 2017

The second time I died

It was summertime and we were surviving on French kisses

The wind carried the sound of lions and freight trains to our bedroom

Our friends were being called to war

There were so many deaths I barely noticed my own.

Seattle

05/2017

#9

THE YEAR OF TRUMP #9:  THE SPOILS 

Finally

the

rich

richer

That's 

me & you

my children 

Me & You 

&

ME

&

me

&

say it again

'cause it feels so good 

ME

and

the

poor

the fucking poor

oh

fuck the poor

the deserving poor

poor and they deserve it

POORER

winningwinningwinning

THIS

is

a

well-done

piece

of 

meat

pass

the

ketchup

.

The Gift

RECOGNITION

is 

the 

gift 

*

The

Divine 

lives 

in

your 

imagination 

**

Things 

are
what they are 

&

are not

infused

w/

anything

but

what 

you 

bring

to

them

***

Rejoice!