Morning; EveningBy David S. Maduli
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—after Willie Perdomo
the east oakland culdesac party
for hector’s 40th, ah man that blocked off dead end street might actually be a barrio in ilocos or guadalajara or east los or east oakland where it really is when the dj throws on bell biv devoe even grandma is gettin down on the walkway up the porch and there’s a taco truck pulled up and pancit palabok and pulled pork with king’s hawaiian bread and mac n cheese the opposite of the scene at mosswood park that morning when you took the kids and hipsters were spread out on a blanket with a box of peet’s and another box of la farine pastries hella taking their shoes off and lounging on the spongy playground surface way too comfortable encroaching on the swingset zone so much you’re practically tripping over them as you try and push your son and you wish the angle would be just right on the upswing his foot would catch a laughing skinny jeans digital slr zoom lens strapped newcomer on his bearded chin o, but hector’s party, big al calls you over pours you a paloma tequila and ice cubes topped with squirt points to the table where your wife is wiping your daughter’s face and your son is balancing his way on the cinder blocks circling the tree and chuckles bro, that’s your beautiful family right there you know that? that’s you and i knew you before all that before her i knew you after some shit went down and you didn’t know what was gonna happen next you didn’t even know what you were doing and where you were going and now here you are so don’t fuck this up because if you fuck this up it fucks me up the opening synths of i got five on it echo up to the hills this better be the remix with richie rich! someone shouts and of course it is [inner vision]By David S. Maduli
Fender Rhodes, Moog Bass,
T.O.N.T.O. synthesizer, Hammond organ, Hohner clavinet, drums, shaker, harmonica, handclaps
above aboveBy David S. Maduli
—for Nia Wilson
above wild fires: paw prints jaguar spots condor feathers insides
of a shearling bomber pod of humpback whales snakes kin goldening fog smokening blue stevie’s ribbon is a chemtrail double helix cloud nursery cloud mortuary box jellyfish lair baleen rain something more unearthly more knotted to call it phoenix is too easy call it moon's larvae window opens into migraine halos aurora borealis on the curtains means police outside bart train is a dagger swifting concord-bound pleasant hill is a darkening place hayward fault’s steady bass tone undermines all chord progression daughter sleeps sideways son wails night amtrak baritone reverbs up the redwoods four octaves higher: nia and her sisters’ laughter David S. Maduli is a father of two, veteran public school teacher, deejay, and author of the chapbook 00:33:33 (thirty-three and a third) (Zoetic Press, 2018). He is an alumnus of the VONA, Las Dos Brujas, and Napa Valley Writers’ workshops, and he was the 2011 recipient of the Joy Harjo Poetry Prize. A descendant of Filipino immigrants born in San Francisco and raised all over, he is a longtime resident of Oakland, CA. He completed his MFA in Creative Writing at Mills College with a fellowship in Community Poetics.
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