mote

The City of Petaluma is located approximately 35 miles northwest of San Francisco, in southwestern Sonoma County, California. The city limits encompass approximately 13 square miles situated in the upper Petaluma River watershed. The City’s storm sewer system consists of ditches, natural and improved channels, pipes, and culverts, all discharging into the Petaluma River and its tributary creeks.

The Petaluma River Watershed supports beneficial uses for cold and freshwater habitat, fish migration, preservation of rare and endangered species, fish spawning, wildlife habitat, and contact and non-contact water recreation. Impacts from urban growth, construction, land development, atmospheric deposition, and agricultural activities contribute a variety of pollutants to the surface water runoff, resulting in the listing of the Petaluma River on the 2002 Clean Water Act’s Section 303(d) list for nutrients, pathogens, and sediment.

The Federal Clean Water Act requires operators of small municipal separate storm sewer systems (MS4s) to comply with the National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System (NPDES) regulation. The San Francisco Bay Regional Water Quality Control Board (Regional Board) is the regulatory agency having national NPDES permit oversight authority for Petaluma. The City’s Storm Water Management Plan was adopted by the City Council in March 2003 to comply with the NPDES permit requirements. The Storm Water Program is responsible for implementation of the Storm Water Management Plan. During the initial permit term, the City’s Storm Water Management Plan will focus efforts and resources on best management practices (BMPs) that address the reduction of nutrients, pathogens, and sediment in the City’s storm water

hydrology

insoluble
         the water
somnambulist
         the water
supplicant
         the water
insatiable 

still not

the first air was an apology. pastureland and gray. this water kept from water. the insertion of the lungs in the same soil where the neighbors are a gave and the have. i am increasingly changing my mind as long as there is water and longing as long as we can swim? to field and close every every every graveyard is a church, our kitchen, our refrain. then birds and minerals remain with names as pairs. the same and more often. the third came as err.

water to air

        the word for soul is
      neck  
what we need is no less
what is, is & whether
                    the narrowing passage  
i decide on
active melancholy
                    brainbone to bloodorgan
                    water to air  
but what if you don’t 
believe in 
         you have to touch something   
                   to remove it

     daily & no
                   matter

matriculation

a mouth of propulsion
aye captain aye then the
veil over the face, we
turn blank, flat on floating
there is the endless movement
of salt & potassium ions
the more of me unable to
explain the less of me
water inside of water
to reach & reach &
finally the barnacles
making our islands
possible the valves
closing on high tides

phosphorously

you can, while you're sleeping
feel for an extra eyelid, put on
the goggles. it is vestry, that is
vestigial, the need to see
in water, in air, @
night all is green &
groaning with light
quiet bombs. the whistling
of far away, the
whistling for your dog
twitching in his dream.

panacea

hidden panel
wires & rainbow
diffusion water-tight
anarchy & parallel
circus

"in this position the hand suggests determinism"

rotator cuff

to the shoulder & carry. petals of

muscles tighten around their

suns. spade & man-

kind breaking up the concrete

agate. from the star sockets

the return to water flight & ash.

biopic

Churchill in his later years
hi, ho
beat the black dog down
son
a mile
a mere mile and wheel rut worn
hot the flattened snake will
stretch of counting years
in
a minute retired to countrysides
Churchill as impressionist artist
strokes
the halfway water marks
as reflection masks
Moroccan dusts semicircular evening
hey, ho
launch the first boat out

affective disodor

subtle tart you and i here-
in twisty forwarding saltlode
as much as ocean evaporating on
average beastly sized water meter
overages six months running. contests
with myselfs on how long bills gone on
unpaid judged guilty for accuracy and grace
and sin originality. tacking over the cash flow
swell you and i in harvest season and in preserves
dusty gel neatly rows jars of.

at the tone the time will be

plants can
ever eat
a stone
having been
sonata &
bone &
broken water

their
technology
will save us
by devouring
our
song on
the hour

1.5 in

plated & tableware. the moon is
skulking away from the earth. water
in glass orbit. we must
consider to ask her how
to come back.

oreash

heron to dock
heron to dock
come in
water side
more i
blue whom
argue
which want
this light

intubate

i am what the cloud finally told

no, no pierced the cardiac notch

i have always had my hands cupped under the violet life pouring the path from the wound

see, steppes of knuckles & lips of fingertips

i am a wet seed cascade from pregnant thunderstorms

i am slipping interred in contiguous fists

held seal under water

you take the right
no push in a sort

of clockwise

manner lets be
guided bewildered and

breathe under

water lets
stickly give little

oomphs roses

topological

a word & he was birded

behind the
needle legs, the fight for gristle

trickle of black
undertaker, the cat, it

it makes the eyes
attention of the seating, single spaced

snow & drop, fire &
hierarchy of wood

provisional: ends tied together, meet

   hive
his each moment out of water

wash up on thought
shore, surety

sky

sure always is a safe word if yr
planet held

intertidal interstitial

his each moment out of water
a clock gasping time, fish
grasping rock, store heat in the
mouth waking, beats on
the beach

reprise

you in dark blue, the blind
river comin', the round back are
gosp-ol' singing on, that the raft
lap you to the first go, the gotta
lapping the her then the lap thru to
day downriver, to the water, to
lethe on the other leaving, side
seen not leaving, cloth i have
touch yet father, don't my
sing love me, but me

head cold, all ahead full

gallus gray, callous clay, heavy
lids, to turn the head &
water sloughs from the lips
of the glass. the opening. the
coming to.

evolution of the whale

the land made a song, but the sea sang it

you said the birds are bluer, even if they're mute

someone threw away a sink in the gurgled grass

the watch was invented so it could be taken off

water finds its own on the windshield, the radio's left on