ixxv

there is a street

on which

i am walking
and I am no longer
in oakland
and the echoing noise
is mopeds and frenchpeople speaking
there is a moment

in which

i close my eyes
and I am no longer
on working hours
and the season
is spring and I am walking
from the bastille

there is a time
there is a feeling

upon which i breathe

the listens of your listens

i miss the late-nights up. i miss giggling in bed.

i miss living in this present, this only present, thisthis present, where only you, where only i

where only the smiles of contentment lie
under the covers and under
the radar of the squirrely guy
living above us.

i miss the daring nights
i miss the early mornings we awaken ourselves
i let you sleep just a bit longer
and we set out for some new adventure
somewhere on the coast
somewhere by the water.

and lying on the quad, faces upturned to the
sun and whispers of my wishes and
the listens of your listens.

i miss the long walks home i miss
your home my home i miss
nervousness
i
miss

i miss the tour of my hometown the
moment we arrive
the beginning the first the
moonlight lies

i miss you holding me in your arms
i miss us having secrets
slowly uncovering the pieces
dripping pieces
and pieces

i miss late-night parks
late-night restaurants
late-night games
late-night calls
late-night walks
late-night talks
second-to-fourth
daniel-to-chalmers
fourblocksthreeblocks and
twoblocksoneblock

i miss knocking on your door,

hoping to
open to

a face i knew
i miss not wanting to sleep at the house
i miss my own apartment
the bed in my dorm and learning to sleep
a
top
you.

yet

i am happy here
with my little life
and my pequeno tu

i am happy here
but, dear god,
i miss You.

this hand, your hand, the longest day

there were no fourteenth chances, with this one and
a veces, non lo ricordo purtroppo.

because i believe in youth and i
engage in stando giovene
and and and

nella otra mano, we are all older than
we seem older than we
remember our years to be ::older::

with veins in our elbows a
tickle in our throat and lacking the
smell of eucalyptus when
we are scratched

and so, the twenty-third day of the
sixth month of the
sixth year,
the sun came out and it burnt
the day the
solstice

came.

in questa mano i am holding the sun
in this hand i am holding
this hand, your hand,

i am facing the sun and
il girasole, too, continues to the west
faces downturn
l’ultima fascia di luce

::hits:: this hand, your hand, the longest day.

chiavo

chiavo
kee-aa-vo.
e tu et u et tu y tu eeee-2
tu non eri il chiavo
l’ho detto, con forza!

you.
yoooooou
and you and you and yoooou
you were not the key
the key! i said, with force.
you were a doorway which was lit up
luce (luuuu-chay)

and i was the light.

Remember Them: Champions of Humanity

Recognized as a master of figurative sculpture, Mario Chiodo's artworks are narrative, evocative and accessible. His artistry captures the passion and spirit of subjects, presenting them in a dream-like state as they both emerge from and meld with their environment. Themes of compassion, humanitarianism and perseverance are the lifeblood of his creations, intermingling the realms of realism and fantasy.

Mario is now in the phase of his career that is allowing him to pursue his own life long dream - creating sculpture that exemplifies the concept that all life is connected. Frequently blending natural elements such as animals and botanical subjects with expressive figurative forms, these artworks tell a story about a moment in time. This new style of sculpture is the most engaging way for Mario to reach people and enrich their lives through his art.

Snidbits

Interrr- vue xixxixmxiiv: The Lonely Planet
First question: "Where have you been?" It's a long story...
..."What is it you do not want me to know about you?" (are you allowed to ask that?) I quit my first job after college. It was stifling. I didn't put it on my resume because my father said it made me look bad.
"Do you always listen to what your father says?" Um, sometimes? He's a dreamer. (How in the world did this get so Freudian so quickly.)
"Can you do dirty work?" (What? The? Heck?)

En-tar-vous xixmmciiic: La casa de la vida, a halfway house
"Do you have experience working with mental illnesses?" I have extensive work with people with disabilities of all types... I have several friends with similar mental illnesses to the types this job would be working with. I really love this work.
"You love it? That's kind of a CRAZY thing to say, eh? I mean, what kind of a person says something like that?" (i guess you would know better than i? ohmygodohmygoddohmygod...)
"What do you do to take care of yourself?" (please, let me out...)

INTERVEWESHAUNG! xmmciciicidicmx: Developmental Studies Library
"Say we gave you 50 books to reshelve, what would you do?" (Are you even joking. I worked in a Graduate library for two years. Do you want me to walk you through putting books on the shelf in order. I can?)
MY question: So, exactly how many books do you currently have? "About 6,000."
And HOW are they being organized right now? "Well, they're on shelves, and in boxes."
(Besides making baby Jesus cry, this just makes me shudder... books... not in order... see ya.)

Intervista xcmibbicdddibbibisiscooliii: YMCA in the East Bay
"Yeah, I'm the CEO, and I don't know why they threw you in here with me. I don't do the hiring, I do the other part." (Laughing politely.)
"What makes you laugh?" Children (falling down on their faces).
"When was the last time you cried?" Oh, man. Last week.
"What was it that made you cry?" A book (that was sitting on the floor and which i stubbed the heck out of my toe on).
"What makes you happy?" Children.
"What is your definition of courage and give an example in your life when you were courageous?" (Much stammering... Enter a clearly illegal discussion of religion in the hiring process.)
"When was the last time you were embarrassed?" Um, five minutes ago when I couldn't think of a time I was courageous.

Tips for Job Seekers:
1) Expect the unexpected.
2) Take a week, read the Parachute job book, and really think about how the following qualities fit into your life: courage, fear, motivation, apathy, strength, mobility, COMMUTE TIME.
3) Think of colorful, two-minute sketches how you've demonstrated specific positive attributes in your life.
4) Refuse to commute more than 20 minutes.
5) Believe in your self worth.
6) Be confident of your skills.
7) Interviewers are freakin' WEIRD. Go with it. Laugh at it. Whatev.

Report Cards

xxci

“i’m leaving” he said, and sure enough, he did. he was gone before i could even realize that he had laid the pen down he had torn the page up he had been

lone(-ly)

he was just lonely.

and all of this time the string of curses out through my mouth (invested too much) (wanted too much) (cared too much) accusations

(of the sort a sleeping princess would grumble under her glass enclosure restless for a breath to say them restless not for what might be a fairytale wedding a happy ever after, but a life not beginning with once upon a time for she, meditating for thousands of seasons, desired only to get out of this mess (and) to begin again without a trace of the extraordinary)

you, my friend, unaware of course of this rage, enter, and your fingers deftly weed the thoughts of my mind and (i love you but i run) (i love you but i run) in the course of the (mun)da(ne)y
you you
you

allora, but it was solitude—tu étais seul. and i, too busy closing my eyes and screaming at this world, preoccupied with this glass enclosure and the injustice of it all, ran before i knew

before

i

knew.

perhaps, she reconsiders, i did not do what i was meant to do—i missed the call and the thisthis that makes it all possible

i am sorry for this and for other

cixvi

faced with the knowledge of this, could she turn away? could she bite back those tears and could she wander

bitter. sweet. red vanilla tea in the rainy mornings, central european city, and a window facing city park. cupping the mug with her hands, to warm them, to warm them. faced with her foreseeing this future: the splitting, the loneliness, the beginning over, and the same excuses to a new face, to new hands, from my lips to his lips and a nursed heart.

she had come back because it was time.

all this rationalized conversation, acknowledged and agreed friendly split, made it all the more real. and all the more real, the closer it became.

it.

be.

came.

faced with this, faced with this knowing, did anyone really swallow their pride scramble inside did we lie did the memory subside did we carve out our insides too deeply for each other did we come out whatever we were did we stare at the pool of what remained and mourn the abortion of our (collective) (projected) (reflected) selves. did you feel me kick did i swallow

walking back from a campus i'd never attended a lake whose name i still do not know a path unpaved walking back hand-in-hand walking, walking we were never reliving we were not recreating we were designing we were amending we were bending we sending (we) comfort and assurances (that which we will not give)

that which we will not receive.

faced with the knowledge of this (faced with this knowledge) do we