Posts for June 6, 2022 (page 6)

Screaming “Witch!” is a colonial American term for gaslighting.

False confessions are admissible in court.

Unicorns exist only in the minds of little girls who enjoy being heretics.

Nine out of ten politicians believe rape is a spectator sport.

The jabberwocky was Alice’s fentanyl dealer.

The NRA believes Jesus wrote the 2nd Amendment.

The Kraken was cancelled for inappropriate touching.

Florida is afraid its students might be able to mathematically prove slavery happened.

18.9 million firearms were sold in the United States in 2021.

Dodge City, Kansas is the Christian Mecca.

The lost city of Atlantis isn’t lost, they just said “fuck this.”

During the summer
It’s almost impossible
To know the winter

They found him in the compost bin,
a valley of rot surrounded by mountains
of attitude and rivers of inertial tragedy,
clouds of green bottle flies buzzing a chorus. 

None of it is me when I choose to be
the happiness bubble floating in love
above any singular white-faced possum.
Peace be upon him, upon us all, amen.    

hiding the facts

of my body

camouflaging her flesh

bending light and shadow in an

attempt to

manipulate the eye of

the beholder when

I could have been

announcing her arrival

in clothes

befitting her

queenly presence.

Not getting enough sleep
has a weird way of becoming
too much sleep
when your deepest sleep is now synced
with your alarm clock.

                                                                   Got stuck-thunk-with the forklift-thunk-
                                                                   with the bad-thunk-wheel. It’s-thunk-
                                                                   gonna be a long-thunk-thunk-day, isn’t it?
                                                                   Thunk.

The onboard logistics system
might be the most user-unfriendliest
I’ve ever encountered.
I can’t get anything done.

                                                                  Also, nodding off
                                                                  while the forks are going up
                                                                  is not ideal.

I’ve spilled a pallet from the top rack
twice now.
It’s not even first break yet.

                                                                 The boxes of trash bags
                                                                 hit the poured concrete floor
                                                                 exploding
                                                                 like popcorn kernels.

The coffee beans erupt
in a hazelnut geyser.

And I think
                                                                  I’m going 
                            to take
                                                                                      an early break today.

Head for the break room.                                                 Grab a snack.
            Six-pack of doughnuts,                              and a Red Bull.
                         Take seat at a table, tear into the snack
                                              and glance at the news.

Seven shootings over the weekend.
At least eleven dead;
never to see Mondays again.
Numbers sure to grow.
Two of them graduation parties
and more horrific questions.

What is the future of this once-great nation?

I watched a boy 
tear into the drive
across the road 
blaring Motley Crue’s
Kickstart My Heart
years
older than him 
in a faded
blue four door
with a green and yellow
mower
hanging out the trunk

there was no preparation 
or walking of the yard 
to find things that would
dull the blade
just a 
I don’t give a fuck
yank start
with a crooked plow
through already too tall grass

my daughter squinted
out from under our porch 
among the tended celosia
made a comment on his skill

there was once a time
when my cousin came
in from Florida for the summer
he helped us mow 
with my grandfather watching
showing him exactly 
what to do
did this kid
across the way
have someone
like we did

I wondered
what was eating him up
and
that if he kept going
like he was
neither he or the mower
would last long

after “Orchids Are Sprouting From the Floorboards” by Kaveh Akbar

In the moment of dawn,
when the day is just emerging,
there is a hush

There is no one outside
No animals stirring
No cars going by

You can see the pinks and yellow
vivid colors in the sky
as they reveal the daylight

You can start to see the green 
of the trees and grass
and the bold colors of flowers

You can hear the sounds of the day
as it begins for people, birds, other creatures
and the cars begin to flow by

I prefer the hush of dawn,
but the sights and sounds of daytime
are just as beautiful and vibrant

There’s sometimes too much of myself in my own body.
The body parts seperate into different beings
The connections between them shoddy and almost obscene.

There’s the demimonde bodies
Then the mind that’s gone.
These identies are not themselves
They have no homes to return to for help.

I collect the scattered feathers

Ripped from the warm body

That moments ago

Sat carefree enjoying sunflower seeds

In the platform feeder.

A mourning dove

Fat

Slow

An ungainly flyer

Every take off and landing

A testament to its lack of grace

Often the bully

This time the victim

Food

Fodder

Even crows have to eat.