I’m tired of watching you walk away.
I can’t open the door by myself when you’ve gone.
Please, can’t you stay?

The sun sits too low in the sky, clouds heavy and gray,
no pinks or yellows or purples of a rising dawn.
I’m tired of watching you walk away.

The time comes back to choke me, like a
familiar hand, a familiar bruise. Familiar and withdrawn.
Please, can’t you stay?

One more day, another minute, an unfamiliar delay.
A dream of you turning back, a lie to myself, conclusion foregone.
I’m tired of watching you walk away.

More, more, more—how awful to want, to say,
to beg, to plead. Your flight, my freeze. My fawn.
Please, can’t you stay?

Tomorrow the same, a wounded kind of day.
Sleep, or don’t. Stay awake, choke back every yawn.
I’m tired of watching you walk away.
Please, can’t you stay?

Our city is sad today—
for the past four months, really.
Tears pour from the sky:
monsoon, changing climate.

This is only the beginning.

Chain of command                                                Nonexistent
Chain of fools                                                          President, VP & Cabinet
Chain of evidence                                                   Irrevelant
Chain, chain, chain                                                 Chain, chain, chain

Chain saw                                                                  Cuts to safety nets
Chain reaction                                                          Cowards on the bandwagon
Chain letters                                                              Executive orders
Chain chain, chain                                                   Chain, chain, chain

Food chain                                                                   Money above all else
Ball and chain                                                             Rule of law
Off the chain                                                                Our democracy
Chain, chain, chain                                                    Chain, chain, chain

Now they got us where they want us                      Overwhelmed, confused
But the chain is weak                                                  It’s due to break
Don your chain mail                                                    Plant your feet
It’s time to fight                                                              For our rights
Chain, chain, chain                                                        Chain, chain, chain

incomplete snack

New vine,
bright green,
curled end,
small leaf buds?

Or old, dead vine,
light yellow,
dried and bent,
torn leaf remains?

I can’t tell from here. 

Sometimes when we take a good look into the past
and we see injustice and prejudice that ran rampant
It makes me so very sad, yet what is even more sad
is that it exists still today, not only in the same form 
from the past, but even more groups of people are
the victims of racism, predjudice, and injustice
We, as a society, need to DO BETTER

Back porch sittin’
is where I want to be.
Lake view livin’
is what I want to see.

        As I sat to write,

        two spike bucks,
        possibly twins this spring,    
        came out of the woods
        to eat apple peelings
        I tossed out.
——-
        Their spikes were covered
        with velvet.
        They displayed wild looks
        toward  the house.
        Finally, they ate and turned away.
——
        They saw themselves in two old,
        discarded mirrors,
        and then they bolted
        into the woods,
        fleeing their own images.

I’ve tried to make my words
flowery and kind,
while my heart remains made of
stone and anger.
I fight tooth and nail
to cling to any hope I have
for humanity’s ultimate triumph
on the other side of
an inevitable collapse.
Why aren’t you listening?
Why aren’t you listening?
Why aren’t you fucking listening?