Papyrus
They’re just streaks in the wood,
old termite paths carved into dead lumber
by long-dead critters.
But as the fire feasts, I am reminded
of Alexandria, watching
hieroglyphs burn.
Just off the trail
A snag full of holes
How many woodpeckers
Have drilled how many times
Bark beetles scurry
Relentless beak poking
Each loud tap goes deeper
Red headed bird tilts and digs
Bug eats tree
Bird eats bug
Human observes cavities
Ponders his own fate
What if I was that bird
What if I was that bug
With camera lowered
Boots crunch leaves and walk away
she lived each moment
as though wringing every
last drop of moisture
from a damp towel—
then hung herself out to dry
after Lucille Clifton
They want me to speak truth
but they want me to speak it
to someone else
and I keep speaking truth
to them.
you’re ready on tuesday
i on monday
you the only vestige left
of my memory
intricacies
of dancing with another person’s rhythms
to make life work
i’m wrung out by tuesday
adrenaline
ATP
only enough
anymore
for a few hours
per week
saved up all week
so i can return email
enough to exist in the world
phone permanently off now
having waited decades for someone to call
but this morning
i can think of
so much
to tell you
by tomorrow
holding all these words
will be fruit rotting
in my hand
this broken society
therapy instead of friendship
people lonely but oblivious
thinking sqiggles on a screen equal love
oxtytocin
community
tribe
whiteness washing over those real things
as usual
coopting the names
to autosub users
there’s a pot calling a kettle…
payment
instead of love
while whores still depopulate
morning streets
handcuffed
i have only you
i a good friend
you a person in an office
with a credit card scanner
we are both cheapened
if there are real friends somewhere
they are not here
In Mullin v. Doe the US Supreme Court ruled on July 25, 2026 that the administration could rightfully end temporary protections (TPS) for people from Haiti and Syria.
This country ignores its origin story.
Tragic Punitive Standard
The country proceeds blind, boastful, full of vainglory.
Thousands Powerless Suffer
Fleeing men and women glimpse a life without fear and pain.
Timeless Prejudiced Situation
They seek high ground from floods of killing, life in chains.
Now temporary
Protection pales
Status strangled.
Sometimes a shrug comes
in the darkest moments
I am not a pessimist
nor a believer in fate
but a certain amount of
embracing what is makes
it easier to take that which
we cannot change
Pregnancy was rough on her –
Birth was worse.
Ain’t stopped crying since the bleeding began.
Hush up the local granny witch who comes
Bearing herbs.
Give her something stronger for the edge.
One pill turns to two, turns to refills,
Turns to cash,
Til her milk is dried up and the whaling becomes
Too much.
One hit turns to two, turns to hunger,
Turns to full,
Til her husband don’t recognize the woman
He married.
Birth was hard on her –
Oxycontin was worse.
At least her crying stopped when the
Prescription was
Written.
