toxic
nazi clowns
at the white house
masculinity
on parade spewing
hate words and sweat
why did the person pushing Spider-Boy
by the pollinator habitat
abandon his tricycle
(a found poem)
hey
your number
popped up
in my phone
so can you please
remind me
how we know
each other
exactly?
we’ve
connected
at some point
but
I can’t remember
how
one week into the 75 redo a trailer flipped a baseball-sized rock through my windshield, just missing my face
the twice daily commute remains a meat grinder
i’ve lost count
⁃ of how many semis have cut me off without warning
⁃ of how many cars have almost hit me drifting into my lane, not paying attention
⁃ of how many hours of my life have been stolen sitting in stopped traffic for no discernible reason
i try to manifest positivity
singing along with the radio on, sunroof and windows open
sometimes other drivers notice and sing too, a brief moment of solidarity in our shared pain
then we return to shouting obscenities at the universe and each other
(yes, I actually wrote this while sitting on the interstate)
MAMMA! —
a child cried out in the courtyard.
All mothers in the world
like startled birds
then spread
the wings of windows,
and settled on their terraces,
and said to themselves,
Not mine.
Yet, a mother’s wings would not just fold.
And so, their eyes gently washed
the blossoming knee,
bandaged the wound,
soothed the sting,
wrapped the shivering child in a sweater,
the lonely one in a smile,
and gave each questions
its proper answers,
the way a mother does.
Which is to say –
with all the seriousness of a child.
When the houses shut their fearful eyes,
the world outside returned
most obediently
to its game,
soothed and content.
Dressed for an evening out
I step out to check the mail.
What do you have in there? I smile.
He stops at the edge of the sidewalk
proudly turning the stroller for me to see
a toddler content and sleeping.
A great-granddaughter, he says.
A great-granddaughter! I exclaim.
We have several, he says.
The rest are at school.
You live up the street in the house with the big front porch.
I say.
You used to have the big trump sign out in front.
I do not say.
We talk a little more, he goes on his way. I get the mail,
go back inside, continue dressing for my evening out.
Remember me
Or split me open with your nails
Juice on your lips
Dripping to your elbow
Remember me
Heat and soft hair
A spark between our finger
Remember me
Holes in your sweater, ink stars on my shoes
Dreaming of your kiss in the dark
Jealousy, a pit in my stomach
Remember me
A line of poetry
Stuck in your head
Or a line in the sand
Faded by the whipping wind
And the feet that crossed one too many times
Remember me
Let myself rot
Soft fingers running up and down my arms
Wondering what my bones know
Remember me
Your smell is different
But in my memory it remains
Next to the box, where I keep hope that
You remember me
(for the crew of Artemis II)
We pray for one last landing / On the globe that gave us birth; Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies / And the cool, green hills of Earth.—Rhysling, the “blind singer of the spaceways” and former jet engineer, in Robert Heinlein’s The Green Hills of Earth
Ultimately we will always choose Earth
We will always choose each other
Hear the spacewoman’s oracle:
We will build ships. We will visit again.[1]
We will always choose each other[2]
She echoed Heinlein’s Rhysling,
“Blind Singer of the Spaceways,”
of the cool green hills of Earth.[3]
She echoed Heinlein’s Rhysling.
Hear the spacewoman’s oracle:
We will explore. We will build.
Ultimately we will always choose Earth.[4]
All of us, no matter where you’re from
(another space-singer looked our way)
From up here, you also look like one thing.
No matter what you look like[5]—
Another space-singer looked our way,
Home sapiens, we’re all one people.
No matter what you look like[6]—
we love you, from the moon.
Home sapiens, we’re all one people.
From up here, you also look like one thing:
Trust us…you look beautiful…
all of us, no matter where you’re from[7].
[1] Artemis II astronaut Christina Koch
[2] Artemis II astronaut Christina Koch
[3] Robert Heinlein
[4] Artemis II astronaut Christina Koch
[5] Artemis II astronaut Victor Glover
[6] Artemis II astronaut Victor Glover
[7] Artemis II astronaut Victor Glover
It was long ago at the Music Box
