The Fight for Freedom
Two girls
on horseback
galloping
around the
rodeo arena
waving flags,
their boyfriends
on their
way home
from Afghanistan
in
body bags.
Category Archives: poems & short jabs
the fight for freedom
Filed under poems & short jabs
singularity
Singularity
I’ve taken
a stand
on a
parcel of
turf so
small that
the laws of
physics
break down.
Filed under poems & short jabs
slap down the ace
Slap Down the Ace
The high
price of
solitude,
one step
back then
another.
Don’t go
crying to
mother,
don’t lodge
a complaint
with
blind justice,
don’t expect
understanding
from that
which you’re
running from.
When it’s
time to
play that
ace up
your sleeve,
slap it
down.
Filed under poems & short jabs
sick of looking for answers
Sick of Looking for Answers
A late
supper is
better than
no supper.
Random sex is
better than
no supper.
Anxiety whets
the appetite
for things
too awkward
to swallow.
It’s a
culinary world,
a digestive
tract with
no exit.
Things backlog.
The word
becomes flesh
&
out pop
the cannibals.
I wish
I had
more respect.
For the
tribe of
my elders.
For the
melting pot
that we
stew in.
For slow
thinkers.
I tap
messages
on the
skulls of
the dead.
The grime-
covered
hand of
the trickster,
flashing cards
drenched in
blood.
Filed under poems & short jabs
secret rhythm
Secret Rhythm
He felt
he had
more limbs
than he
knew what
to do
with &
thought
maybe he
was a
Krishna or
a Vishnu
perhaps a
centipede or
an octopus,
something well
endowed with
appendages.
“Bobby hon
are you
alright
in there?”
his mother
called.
“Please baby,
come down
to dinner.”
“I’m not
hungry mother,
please
leave me
alone,”
he said
thru the
closed
bedroom door,
& she
went back
down the
stairs.
He sat
on his
unmade
bed in
the dark
with his
many arms
wrapped
around him,
rocking to
his own
secret rhythm.
Filed under poems & short jabs
set in stone
Set in Stone
Birds of
happiness,
splashing in
the bird
bath of
our
concrete minds.
They wet
their feathers
& then
they’re off
again,
streaking thru
the summer sky.
The water
ripples with
their departure
then evaporates,
leaving
lime stains
on our
curved awareness.
Filed under poems & short jabs
