Whatever that means
I’ve drunk the cool aid
Given in
Changed teams
Called home
Walked a mile in my own shoes
Swam the English Channel
Drowned
Saved by the pilot
Crash cart
Defibrillator
Narcam
20 minutes
Near death
Now
When I sleep
I speak
To angles.
The air is heavy and stale
in the bingo hall before
the patrons get here.
My sunburn is shedding skin
like a lizard. I scratch at it,
willing it to hurry.
The air conditioning doing its best
but even the blowing fans realize
this is a losing battle.
The money counter shuffles
its payout over and over,
shredding the silence.
Sweat pools at the back of my neck
then stretches a long trickle
the length of my spine.
We open the doors to customers
and the real fun begins.
the way the sky opens that
gaping, endless mouth
hungry, forever—
maybe I could do that
maybe I could be that
what wants to end?
who?
I could stretch on forever
a sunset, a horizon
beautiful, forever—
how many ways can I say
neverending?
how many ways can I describe it?
the sky, gray and dark and heavy
clouds I can draw, easy to understand
the mouth only I see
lightning teeth, rattlesnake laugh
chasing, forever
chasing what?
who?
still beautiful in all that shadow
beautiful for all the ache and hunger
maybe I could be that
“Truth did not come into the world naked, but it came in types and images. The world will not receive truth in any other way.” – The Gospel of Phillip
It is from water and fire that the soul and the spirit came into being.
I am not referring to that fire which has no form
but to the other fire
whose form is bright and beautiful
and which gives beauty.
It is through water and fire that the whole place is purified –
None can see themselves
either in water or in a mirror without light
Nor can you see yourself in light without mirror or water.
the visible by the visible, the hidden by the hidden.
Light and Darkness, life and death, right and left, are brothers of one another.
They are inseparable.
Because of this neither are the good
good
nor evil
evil
nor is life
life
nor death
death
For this reason
each one will dissolve into its earliest origin.
by one and the same breath, the fire blazes and is put out.
a Found poem / from: ” The Gospel of Phillip” The Nag Hammadi Library, translated by Wesley W. Isenberg. Original translation of this text was prepared by members of the Coptic Gnostic Library Project of the Institute for Antiquity and Christianity, Claremont Graduate School.
He rolled his weed with tobacco and mint
on an old tea tea tray. He said it helped him
sleep through the night without getting scared.
I mean, old school scared–like when
you were a kid and you saw a figure shadowed
in your sameold bedroom, sudden fearful
in the late-night dark.
He used to say a lot of things,
used to whine like a kid
when I asked him to
take out the trash
or go to therapy.
He used to hang around
and play games, videos
of people pulling honey from beehives,
of middle-class guys
with riding lawn mowers,
The Outer Limits reruns, Star Wars,
roll weed on his tea tray–tobacco and mint.
Our Internet, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy domain.
Thy signal come,
Thy will be done,
On screens as it is in the Cloud.
Give us this day our daily scroll,
And forgive us of our swipes,
As we forgive those who swipe right against us,
To lead us right into temptation,
And deliver us toward evil.
Amen.
Now. Today. June 28, 2025. She had waited
long enough. She is going. She purchases a
ticket. Packs her bags. Boards the plane.
She books an Uber as the plane lands. Heads
straight from the airport to New York Harbor.
There is no reason to put it off. She has to see
it for herself. Today. Now. June 28, 2025.
That bucket list item.
Extending skyward 305 feet there is no
missing it. Her. She. The Lady. The Lady
formerly known as Lady Liberty. The bucket
list item. There she stands. Today. June 28, 2025.
Occupying the same spot for 139 years. The Lady.
The Lady formerly known as Lady Liberty, gazes
out over the water. Her eyes search for boats, ships,
vessels filled with souls seeking love, support, opportunity.
She. Her. The Lady. The Lady formerly known
as Lady Liberty holds her ground firmly. Her
crown chipped, broken. Pressed into her bleeding
scalp. Muzzle across her swollen lips. Robe torn,
tattered, ripped at the neckline. The torch she extended
high and bright as a lighthouse for over a century lies
shattered near her shackled ankles. Today. Now. June 28, 2025.
She is no longer a beacon of hope. Her fist raised in rage overhead.
She is a warning. A silent scream.
Turn back. Now. Today. June 28, 2025. For those who land here
are not free. Those who live here are not free. Freedom does not
ring. Now. Today. June 28, 2025.
She. Her. The Lady.
The Lady formerly
known as Lady Liberty.
The bucket list item.
Has been crossed off.
Now. Today. June 28, 2025.
you can read, and learn, and study, and
spend a lifetime becoming the expert or
ask chat bots to try it 80s movie style for
A Montage
blur of moments, laced
with music,
glimpses of trying,
falling,
getting up again.
sans dialogue,
just motion
and memory
stitched into meaning
life in thirty, forty-five, or
gasp, sixty-plus seconds
there, I feel better, more
knowledgeable
don’t you?
Smell the funk: neglected, unwashed body
See the lank long lusterless hair hanging
over face, head bowed down
on yesterday’s knees
world come undone—
could be you, could be me
daughter, son, dear dear one
be aware:
this being may be with you
in your last moment
those features the last you perceive
reaching out to hold your hand
with support
with comfort
with compassion
sharing with heart of empathy
your dying breath
