only weeks until the fair
by t. zoEy benally

evanescent khaki clad ground squirrel munches goat head blossoms
backs absorbing southern sun they scrutinize fair board provisions
Cynomys gunnisoni pyrethrin dusted, plague fleas gone


i like to stare at clouds reflected in puddles
by t. zoEy benally

i like to stare at clouds reflected in puddles
sweatshirt grey conglomerations of molecules
gaseous water mirrored by liquid water
small volume contains soaked enamel skies
recreate summer evenings pressed to the ground
two small eyes trained on the atmosphere arc
layers of gases, gossamer fabrics, angled filters
polarized gas lenses, cushioning us from cold
black exhales, vacuum breathed from god lungs

water saturated dirt melts away, now clean pebbles
granite chips, brightened from matte dust, fade to
flaming sun sunk red, duck neck teals, honey brown
precious jewels that vanish with evaporating liquid
mica glitter, embedded in dried magma, spewed
from some ancient volcano, hurled into smoke
not clouds, acrid airborne particulate choke, violently
grab oxygen, bound up in SOx & NOx with duct tape
winds thick with earth belches, bloated sulfur farts

i take this monsoon opportunity to look without
fear of offending rain deities, stop drops from falling
hydrogen and oxygens, seized, held tight
electric charges, clamor through atomic tunnels
empty metal desk raked across cattle guards by
burly men, dressed in silver lining gore-tex
hollow rez rockets driven too fast across washboard
roads, fine dust swirls up, slinky curls fully extended
drizzle down 8 meters per second, fill vinyl crevices

i watch for rainbow, ribbons unfurl from hazy planet edges
colorful lightwaves bounced off glass pools--trampolines
cupped asphalt, slight defect, cradles moisture dimensions
ROY-G-BIV somersault, cartwheel, flip end over end
multitudes of quark flavors sprinkle down--invisible
world miserably unaware of the shift in potential energy
riotous swings, tensions suspended on charges
the pools give my neck, shoulders rest, and allow me
to stare at clouds reflected in puddles without tripping


daddy long legs prevent baths
by t. zoEy benally

baby developed a slight fear of spiders, then
spiders decided that the shower is a stellar
bug trapping environment, web central, and
as a result, baby developed a slightly funky
scent, slightly sticky bed head-do, and a massive
reluctance, resistance to taking baths, cleanliness

i bought a book, beautiful art, featuring
Little Miss Spider, yellow and black
a book that concludes with Miss Spider
finding a mother in green Betty beetle
in one day read four times four people
baby perched on laps, read to sixteen times

last night was the test, cultural sensitivity
of baby towards little spiders, miss or mister
everywhere, we walked into the bathroom
baby started saying, "i don't like spiders..."
"you don't like Miss Spider? remember,
she only wanted a mother?"

baby contemplated that idea in her lovely brain
that these spiders meant her no harm, only
wished to cuddle and snuggle with other exoskeleton
creatures, arachnids or insects, which ever
loved the spider best, to further illustrate, i picked up
a large daddy long leg, carried away, unharmed

baby was enthusiastically relieved, no longer
worried about spiders stalking her, Psycho style
in the shower, eight legs lurking behind soap,
shampoo, compound eyes watching, plotting
baby splashed joyfully, swirled bubbles in the tub
baby smelled wonderful, hair clean, fluffy
pretty baby in clean pajamas, spiders left to hunt


today i watched a woman unhinge her jaw
stuff a donut in and chew, rhythmic mastication
i wondered if the donut was good, quality
or old and crusty, only the surface beautiful
she chewed, pastry cud, eyes pasted to the telly
images paint rolled on of the devistation
in New Orleans, bodies floating in water
eyelids low, fleshy cheeks moving with her jaw
she observed houses surrounded by muddy water

a guy walked in as i was reading an old Newsweek
i could see his Adidas tennis shoes and Puma track jacket
in my peripheral vision as i read about London subway
naked bloddy bodies being stepped over by fleeing people
he stared with the woman at the television, his mouth
slightly ajar, breathing air in and out
probably drying out his lips, tongue, breath
she continued chewing, lifted her left leg
and placed it over her right, shifted onto her right
butt cheek, took another bite of possibly sinewy sweet

today i listened to christian rock disguised as punk
the guy bobbed his head like a rocker, i'm sure
he wished he could turn up the volume, jam
but i was there, so now i wonder what's the criteria
for christian music? is there a board that decides
what becomes eligible for play on these stations?
i wonder who's idea it was first--to incorporate
the rock and pop formulas into church music?

today i sit in an air conditioned room, jacket on
tapping plastic keys, electricity gobbed by this monitor
later i will walk down sidewalks scratched from earth's surface
ground gaia innards chew by metal teeth, never swallowed
while mud dries, mold grows, skin cells grow and finally
push hard scabs off mended wounds, fall for ants to find
i will think about old leaders, that have finally grown up
and wish to go back so they can have that moment
not chew that donut, and really try to save the world.