Alexander Romero

tsunami

Last night you dropped me,

and it felt right.

You see I’m not meant to be held,

“If you hold sand too tightly in your hand, it will run through your fingers...”

(Joni Mitchell, Letter to ex-lover)

Don’t think I’m saying I wanted it to happen,

but I saw it coming.

Tsunami.

Last night you yelled,

and I didn’t even hear it,

but I was pulled,

and I was weary.

My friends remind me,

“Things shouldn’t be this hard...”

This morning, you sent me a final note-

“I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

It hurt, it did. But I saw it coming.

Tsunami.

So, even though you dropped me,

and even though it hurt-

I danced.

Cause’ it’s all I’ve been taught.

When her ex left- I danced.

What felt like a heartbreak- I danced.

When my father died- I danced.

A dancing little crab, with just skin on my back,

taking sun on a rock,

looking for a shell to call mine.

Dancing on the blazing heat, buried in grain and rock.

With the elements overpowering my day and night.

big Tsunami,

bigger storms,

and tiny day to day chores.

Sequoia Strong

To live in Los Angeles, California-

Watch the canyon I call home open front.

Drive a Prius down the roads-

Hit up Weho and then call it home.

Have my finger on the social pulse.

Be cool.

Travel to Bakersfield,

Lunch with people I thought I left back home.

Travel a little bit more North.

See the great Sequoias stand taller than me.

Compare myself, and have a competition of ego with the earth.

Make a self important judgment-

And ask, “How many children is enough?”

Meet clusters of hippies,

give salutations to the sun.

Buy from the clearance section

Down at the Salvation Army Store.

In return getting allowance,

to hawk at somebody in disgust.

And after all that,

not find warmth in the arms of the world.

And I don’t even think,

That until today I admitted what I really wanted.

I’d be untroubled in Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, Philadelphia,

Or anywhere on the Mexican Coast.

Because I kinda have figured out exactly who I am.

I’m a good drunk-

And the best when I’m on drugs.

I’m funny.

I’m the classmate teachers love to have,

And students like to watch.

and I think I'd make you proud.

I can now admit,

I'll never be perfect.

The second thing I’m able to admit,

Is that for whatever reason,

Something from two generations messed me up.

I get hurt,

I strike out.

and I don’t excuse it with saying,

“It’s out of fear.”

In fact, I know why.

I was left with the gift to explore.

My karmic lineage is waiting around to see

why the witch on the floor, is waiting for more to fall.

And this really didn't even come about,

until you humbled me,

Then I finally realized I’m not a voice meant to project.

And when I finally learned that lesson,

my world turned a lot simpler.

And for the first time in my life

I had something in common with a white cis man,

It was oblivion we both had!

So now I travel with that on my back,

I’m happy to pretend I don’t know.

Because sometimes things flow easier

when you’re not all there.

And people don’t respond well to someone who has both-

Good looks and quick wit.

Matter of fact, they can shut them down with a simple grab at the waist,

And a comment about their “chunky” weight.

You’ll usually get turned down,

Or made into a show.

And if you’re really unlucky, a man

who will explore,

how quick can you walk out a door.

Two for you, Two for your brother too

Things have a way to fall into place,

and would you believe you’re not the first one

who’s heard me say this over and over again?

It was the same thing I told your mother,

and what reassured her;

You really could only resent for some years.

Two for you, and two for your brother.

And you unloading,

Back in 09’

Wasn’t cool or hip,

Or the thing to do.

You were opening up to someone,

but it wasn’t returned to you.

And your tamed scream

reminded me of my time on the grass.

Sitting by a creek,

And listening to another tree fall and crash.

And it got me thinking,

This is no longer a metaphor about my life,

or another boring thing to romanticize.

This is a reminder that things really do fall apart.

And also, a couple things I learned from the cold.

The world is not meant to be your oyster,

And whoever said that was greedy.

The world is not meant to be held on a palm,

And whoever said that was needy.