Conversations Among the Ruins

I drink
coffee at
midnight after work.

I believe
that someday,
somewhere far

different from here,
genuine kindness,
wholeness and
selflessness -

will give entities
of existence the
power and adoration

that on this
current Earth is reserved
for beauty and monetary
wealth.

My Grandmother was a woman
with blonde hair named
Earlene.

She had tons of costume
jewelry and she loved
Owls, peach roses, and

she drank coffee
the way that I do -
constantly.

She died when I
was a little girl. Sometimes
though I swear

it's like she never left.
I have a knack for knowing
the people that died better

then the ones in my life
that are living.

Once, I gave somebody
a gift.

She is their daughter
and she likes costume
jewelry and owls

too.

I believe that the moon
is infected
with the same virus

as this planet.

The same virus that
has us beating women
and texting

our friends how much we
fucking hate
people. The virus that

makes you think
eating a double double
feeds your body. I believe

that the moon
lived once just as
the organism Gaia,

but it didn't make it
and now, like a dandelion
skeleton, it hangs

in the sky. The moon
is masculine energy, not
feminine. The books

are written wrong.
You.

Wrote me wrong.

But anyway.

I believe that for much
of my adult life I kept

a poster that said
I WANT TO BELIEVE

on my walls.
I rolled that poster
up the other day,

smiling to myself,
because only I
could understand it -

how I always
wanted to believe

and how I've finally
come to believe so I

roll that poster up
and tell you a few things
about myself

to sift through the
time and find one
that stuck out

and spoke to
somebody off over
there

elsewhere.