Discounted Poetry

You poked until You cracked the speckled shell And pushed the brittle fragment Till it slanted and fell And you emerged Unfolding, Slick and raw and new. I pierced the earth And rose, Unbalanced and askew, Fresh and fumbling, Dangerous and new. - 2/11/26

The world is tilting. Close your eyes And still your breath  And you can feel The slightest wobble In its spin. My older friend no longer Leaves his house. He sits so still on top his rocking chair. He's growing restless, Somewhat spastic, With the daily news And looking at The rifle over the fireplace More often than he used to. "Something drastic," he mutters to himself, Forgetting I am there. After leaving the fluorescent room, She passed me in the hallway, Smiling and keeping tabs From out the corner of her narrow eyes, Quite obvious in expectation I'd engage. I used to water all the flowers Now I pour upon the ones which bloom. - 2/10/26

The lightning from the autumn storm Surprised us all From out our drunken slumber, Rattle and a cannon blast from heaven. It told me sharp as cracking ice in frozen night, I'm never an additional accessory. I am the revving motor engine, baby. The winter promises a blanketing. I'll wrap my skin and bones Into my afghans Conjured by my mother and her sister And delight in my own heat. You have a lovely tail. It's such a shame it always tattled. - 2/9/26

You swore that you opposed The illegal ones, The criminals, But now the whites are welcomed Into your open arms Across the border, Showing what we knew. You hated all the brown and black ones. It could have been my mother, son. It could have been anyone protesting On the street that day. I've always learned to push my say, To make the strong aware We're watching, Readying history. The future will come to bear upon you. Jonathan Ross, Raymundo Gutierrez, Little Ochoa -  The only Jesus Evangelicals love - Little boys with baby tempers. Little boys with guns. Little boys behind the masks And the war paint Anonymous Pretending to be strong As long as they're unknown, To be so macho When they're armed, As long as power's torn away their last restraint, As long as Papa Trump  Is saying it's okay. You may get away But you'll never get clear. We will remember. You shot the innocent Until the pavement drank their blood. The stained concrete will cry And throw it up i...

The shallow water Tiding on broken soil -  Something's settling. - 2/5/26

I fell. I stumbled from the white. I didn't even try to find my feet. The air was miles deep. I spread apart the grey, A curtain hanging From the crooked forest limbs. The darkest fellow watches Curious before, Behind. It might turn out a cat. It might just be a crow. I am not sure. Every burial is not a resurrection. Salvation will eventually No longer seek us out, Exhausted, Tired of we walkers of the soil. You are past my touch, My sight, But my mind won't let you go, My sin, My mortal end. - 2/4/25