Open up this book;
there is a leaf inside it
found with a lover.

^^^^
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I fight between music and
the building of the tides
in the question about
which version is best;

this is the spray

its the sull and strum of each thick triplet that make me want to hammer nails into walls,
nails into walls
nails into dogwood
and pine needles into the sides of my bare feet as we
roll into the forest
on spread sheets
-spread bed sheets
to protect our sweet comfort from the
biting line of ants
--
to protect our sweet comfort from
the biting lines that build tension
grain by grain
in ant-hills
--
It's the song and clipped sillhouette of your free words
that hums my hind-brain
frees my mind
asks me to flee my world
and abstain from time

to hammer nails into
walls
nails into dogwood and walls
to break bellies
like waves against the morning
and wander out into the woods
and spread a sheet,
a bed sheet on dark pine needles,
eclipsing sunrise and hunger to
let morning wait.

SAFE tries to put back into the person her sense of self-confidence as well as self-respect, control, and all around mental stability from which abuse takes so much away.

SAFE is not an organization targeted at only children and teenagers who have been sexually, physically, or emotionally abused. SAFE is also concerned with the children who are not necessarily abused but who show potential signs of distress. These are children and teenagers who are just in need of some kind of help.

Gala. Always sweet, always crunchy, always smooth, always available (at least in Texas).
Fuji. Less sweet, always crunchy, always grainy, usually available.
Braeburn. Sweet like gala, mild and grainy, usually available.

Turiya and I dig Galas. Manic, loud, crunchy, mad passionate apples. Veronica and Walida are Fuji folk. Tempestuous and stormy, powerful, frenetic pommes. Doug does Braeburn. A little bit of everything. I don't know about Red Delicious. It's not my dig. And may the seas protect us from the ones who get on the with Granny Smith.

And on the fourth, the moognasty Entertainment System blew pop sensibility into the smog oblivion of a fire-worked Houston sky. Coo, doveys; Coo!

We felt Rick struggle to catch up as he joined from the cottage behind. He seemed to be driven out of his foxhole because noone else was left. We felt it, whatever it was that Noah felt before the numbness set in; We felt it in an "oh no oh no, oh no, oh no oh no" sort of way. We felt the wounded, drowning beneath our feet. For Doug and I, it started with the paranoid psychodelia of dirty plastic porch chairs rocking in near darkness. Rick felt water prickling his toes as he wrote e-mails at his girlfriend Sonja's computer. But the fear of death pulled in instincts and we became sinuous cats of war and mechanized men. My muscles were tenser than they were the first time I clenched in orgasm. I was scared and raw and determined. We couldn't hear our own breath for the rain. We could barely hear ourselves pounding at the landlord's house or the garage apartment behind it where Dave and Nathan live. We told Erin to run. She managed to pull her car away before the water swallowed it. Nathan had passed out upstairs after a night of drinking. He wasn't so lucky. It took us five minutes to convince him something important was about to happen, and his car was at least a foot and a half lower than Erin's had been to begin with. He couldn't get it out.

Everyone was red faced and engorged with adrenaline. We kept fighting and struggling for something to do, but what can one do? Within half an hour, water had filled the low spot where the house sits and stopped flowing into the yard. It had started flowing through it and out instead. The street became a river. We tried to make it back to the front door, but there was still a light on inside. Rick could feel the electricity coursing through his legs as he scrambled to grab his cat. Our cats made it to high ground.

The landlord's house was open and we were welcome on his much higher ground. We watched as sheds floated down the road and our cars went farther and farther under. Nathan's Daewoo ended up fully submerged, in the same parking spot that usually gets no more than a half inch. Doug has still not been able to resolve his insurance claim. My car only runs because my father came out on monday and helped me fix it. Monday was my twenty-second birthday. I cleaned rain-diluted urine out of my automobile and cupboards. I threw away the couch I had spent a great deal of money and some thirty hours reupholstering. It was priceless to me. A piece of my artwork had been sitting on a table when it flooded. It is stretched across a wooden palette (like they have at grocery stores) and weighs at least 50 lbs. I had put one nail into the top to keep it from falling and killing a cat. The table floated away and left it suspended by one nail.

We later pulled up all of the linoleum and much of the underlying concrete in the living room. The drywall was pulled off of the bottom four feet of the living room wall. I want to tell you about the amazing sense of community we had. It was there. But I am so tired, and the sense of the community is always there. It is the horror that is new to me.