Writer’s Block with Cough Suppressant

The belly-up stink bug
on my desk reeks
of cilantro.

Little traces of sassafras
crumble over
the carpet leaving this

murder mystery
for my nose
to sniff out.

Not a trace of natural gas 
even though the world 
contains more orange.

Last night in my dreams,
the closet moved
on its own.

Tiny elephants rolled
purple cylinders
around the living room.

Spiders beamed their
eye shine from the
edge of the TV antenna.

The trio of voices in my chest
decided to wheeze
in harmony,

Your superpower is
writing in
cursive.

It’s not left vs. right 
it’s up vs. down 
they left with our rights 
and put em right in the ground
it’s us vs. them 
you ain’t figure that out?
there’s more of us 
than them 
find out if you fuck around 

They’ve never given the same rights 
to black and brown 
that they’ve given to white 
they don’t even want you to say that 
out loud 
we don’t wanna deal with the evil and spite 
that founded 
this nation 
still drownin 
in racists 
they tried to say it was post-race
pain we deliver like Postmates 
we a buncha killers no Ghostface 
no face 
no case 
lady liberty 
goes both ways 
and they both go to gettin paid 
whichever bag’s bigger 
baby you know greed and hate 
are our scripture 
shit’s been a fixture 
to piss on the poor 
and piss on the floor 
of a better day in store 
forever we gotta wage these wars 
on anybody that tries to cut into our action
and anybody else we ain’t for 
we’re living under a coven of fascists 
put a baker’s dozen in the basket 
case closed 
like hate in souls 
got it in spades 
on scrolls 
have you paid 
the toll 
for being alive 
for seeing the lies 
they feed you all the time 

It’s not left vs. right 
it’s up vs. down 
they left with our rights 
and put em right in the ground
it’s us vs. them 
you ain’t figure that out?
there’s more of us 
than them 
find out if you fuck around 

Daisy-eating man–
Daisy eating man–
Dasily–
No, no, no:
a man-eating Daisy, and
hungry at that.

Do you want to leave the Palace?
Its mansions
and halls full of strangers?
Asters closer to the Ocean,
still real.  I stand on their heads.
Still real, time shifts
closer to the ocean, and a spot softens
on Michael’s head. So I lower myself,
slowly, undetected, through stitch-gaps in bone,
flatten myself to squeeze in between the folds,
settle,
cover, uncover, cover,
and uncover our newly combined eyes.  
What hides down that hallway?
On the other side of that green marine wall?

It seems like yesterday 
or a year ago 
since you left the overbearing beat of my heart 

I thought I would still feel the lingering hover of your lips 
but i can’t seem to recall 
how that felt 
the way your smile 
would light up a room 
the way your laugh warmed my stomach 
did it? 

it’s funny. really. 
The way you decided to quit. 
Just yesterday,
or maybe last week, 
I was asked if I was in love with another 
but the truth was,
I couldn’t seem to remember. 

Soft rain drops patter on my roof
and trickle through waxy leaves. 
The sun peeks through a V in the trees
and quiets my thoughts with her brightness. 

One with the ocean
I bob to its heartbeat
Cradled in salted silk

On this full moon night you’ve promised to show me
the phosphorescence as it dances upon the chilly waters,

Full in a new way, walking next to you
innocently taking in Nature,

No booze this time, or ever,
what a lovely initiation . . .

You, my friend
ripening into my sensitive, soft spoken lover

Clear and free of the have to’s, the drive to get there first,
You’re soft brown eyed soul says, 

“I’ve known you before . . .”

Was it moccasined feet . . . listening to terra cotta beats
as we chanted and danced round the tribal fire?

Now kids, free of family bear trap expectations, 
all the snags, should’s and should not’s,

As Mother Nature cradles her two innocents,
whispering,
“Release all the tries, the hard, the have to’s, have fun
on your ribbony path . . .”

Salt air, warm sun,
cool breeze, undone. 

Crisp white, blue glass,
fresh fish, warm laughs. 

Sun dress, bare feet,
sun kissed, blond bleached. 

Blue waves, pink shells,
hot sand, my self. 

My heart, my home,
washed away, sea foam. 

Bright lights, grey walls, 
Nine-to-five swindle. 

Soul cries “come home!”
Blue skies, warm sun. 

This morning I skipped a rock 

Stranger: