house blessing

I didn’t psychically cleanse
your new home before
you moved in. I wasn’t sure
it needed it. I didn’t feel
any bad vibes. maybe they
didn’t notice me because
I wasn’t going to live there
full time. but now I hear
how you are beset with fears
and worries, some of which
I believe I can rid you of.

the space is not just a space,
it’s a repository of all the emotions
that were previously felt there.
if the prior inhabitants were anxious,
or quarreled a lot, or angry,
or depressed,
all of that psychic residue
remains behind when they
move out.

but these lingering spirits
are no match for me. I’ll
put out bowls of white vinegar
in every corner of every room
to soak up all the bad stuff
and then toss it out the front door
far into the street. I’ll smudge
with white sage and incense,
and tell all the things that bother you
to get out and stay out.
I’ll obtain dried herbs and
special waters, and wash your floors
to sweep away all the nasty things
that bug you. I’ll hang a horseshoe
twined with red ribbons
and evil eye charms
over your front door
so that no one even thinks
a bad thought in your direction.

I’ll weave a protective wall
of peace and harmony
to keep you and yours safe inside.
no one and no thing will dare
to try to get you
when I’ve worked my magic.
don’t worry, baby. I’ll fix it.

flies II

the French
have these little screens
they put over food
to keep it free
of flies.

I wonder why
accommodate
these flying nuisances.
is it because
they accept that there
will always be a fly,
that problems and irritants
are a fact of life, that these
flies are real and they’re
not going anywhere, so
they must just be
lived with?

or are the Frogs just
too lazy
to put up flypaper?

the fly

I’d rather be
the fly in your ointment
than be a person of little to no
consequence. I’d rather be
difficult, challenging, weird, even ugly
and alive, than a perfect, lifeless
China doll, empty inside, reflecting only
what you want to hear.

I’ll be the one
to shake up your comfortable
brain and turn it into
a snowglobe. I’ll turn your
assumptions upside down,
rummage through your
mind pockets for ideas,
shake the thoughts
out of you.

I’ll fight to the death
backing an argument I’m not even
one hundred percent
convinced of myself,
because I’d rather disagree with you
and learn something in the process
than agree boringly
with anyone else.

big bee

there’s a solitary bee
who likes to visit me
sometimes. a big fat buzzy
bumble of a bee who looks
like he shouldn’t be
alone, he looks like he’s lost
his hive and his friends and
I wonder where he lives, where
he goes and what he does
when he’s not stopping by
to check out my terrace
and drive my cats
crazy with his slow drone
and deliberate hovering.

I also can’t help but wonder
why he even comes here
to my high aerie.
I have no flowers for him to pollinate,
no plant life beyond
my perennial herbs that I
sometimes use
for cooking. so what’s
in it for him
up here? is he just
fond of me?
is he saying “what’s
up lady, how
have you been?” is he
telling the good ol’ drones
back at the hive about these
little trips –
are they all laughing
at how I don’t wake up
until noon if I can help it –
or could he perhaps
love me in his clumsy,
bumbling way?

maybe one day I’ll learn
the true rationale
behind his visits.
until then I
merely smile and say,
“hello big bee,
how nice to see you
again.”