Marching For Their Lives

Enough of this 
And that, my fellow 
Citizens—we all 

Know we get 
Enough of that 
From people who 

Don’t know where 
They’re going 
Or where they’re at— 

Not like these kids 
Who know exactly 
What they’re aiming at. 

Aphasic Synesthesia

Don’t forget 
If you can’t 

Speak because you 
Have nothing to say, 

Just remember when 
The time came for you 

To listen, you were lost 
In thought, looking 

The other way. 

Down In The Dumps, Period

Pollyanna, 
When I feel like shit, 
The last thing I want is you 
Telling me to forget everything 
And be happy—I was there once 
And look where I am now, 
Feeling twice as shitty. 

Selfish Myopic's Blundering Doppelgänger

Too busy looking out 
For yourself, you didn’t 
See the other going 

Over the deep end with you, 
And from the looks of it, 
Neither did he—soon 

The world will be 
A much better place, 
If only you could see. 

Urgent Message From Where Scott Pruitt Sits*

Environ
Mentally 

Cracked pots spied 
Crashing 

Through imagined hole 
In ozone layer—run 

Helter-skelter 
To the nearest 

Shelter for ancient 
Crock repairers! 


*Environmental Protection Agency 

Oval Mirror, Oval Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Fairest One of All?

Well, since you 
Asked, it looks like 
You’re well 

Past your prime, hunky- 
Bunch—don’t you 
Think it’s time 

You took up another 
Pastime? Like spitting 
In what passes

As your face.

Camouflage

Wallowing deep 
Down in its own 
Dark juice, the octopus is 
Clearly rejoicing; surely now 
That danger’s over, some long 
Overdue indulgence is 
No great sin. 
. 

You of the spineless 
Backbone wielding 
Wishy-washy hands, 
On the murky bottom 
Of a milieu turning inky 
In the sand, there’s a lesson 
To be learnt here— 
. 

Catch it if you can. 

 

Old Old World Emigrant's Longing

His high mountain village 
So remote but still so near 
To his heart now 
Beating in the new 
World, he fancied he 
Heard the homing wind 
Clearly in the cypresses 
Ringing the cemetery, 
Shaping out of thin air 
Every breathless breath 
He took in. 

Just Sayin' I Think I Am Here For The Stinking Duration

Well, friends
That’s why life- 
Supporting loving 
Words need to be well 
Grounded in grit 
To keep them 
From being cast 
Away like so 
Many tons of swell 
Headed well- 
Meaning shit. 

KO'd By The Muse

Just between 
You and me, 
I think 
I don’t look at all 
Like a poet but I do 

Thank you so 
Much you think 
I do—would you 
Like me to 
Slam a poem 

About how 
It feels to be so 
Punch drunk you 
Can’t tell the difference 
Between what you want 

To see and what 
You’ve come to? 

Acid Reign

Crow on, old 
Indestructible 
Grackle on tip 
Of blighted cypress, 
Biting acid tongue.