Climb down off your ******* cross and
show us all a miracle.
We need it now more than ever.
The world has become cynical.

Mother Mary come to me and
give me virtue, give me grace.
None of these do I possess now.
I have lost them in the race.

In the moments before dawn I
lie awake and wonder why
people came to be at all, and
my conclusion is a sigh.

I have seen the hungry eyes and
I have had to look away.
I am so inconsequential.
An action met with sharp delay.

A blemish on the face of time, we
hide behind our wealth and lies.
Turning all our heads and walking.
Barely opening our eyes.

Climb down off your ******* cross and
help us to remember why
life is dear and should be cherished
before we’re made to say to say goodbye.

Mother Mary please remind us
what it’s like to love ourselves,
how we all are most connected
and here to foster love, as well.

There was a time, when we were young, when
colors and sounds were more bright.
We breathed the same air together,
our senses new and our hearts light.

But outside there’s a swirling darkness
gathering its strength and weight,
swallowing the light created,
as we just look on and wait

hoping for a hand to reach us,
doing all the work for free.
It will merely sort itself out,
we seem to foolishly agree.

Climb down off the ******* cross and
do something for we you have made,
even though we disobey you,
doing what you have forbade.

Mother Mary come to us and
lead us back where we came from.
Show us how we’re lazy children.
Teach us who we have become.

I remember you well,
your crooked spine,
and heart of a widow
that’s turned so black.

What’s made you bitter?
I wonder, now.
You look back on years, but
you can’t go back.

Have you forgotten
my face by now,
even as I walk by you
in a roaring crowd?

Does it ever occur that
you could be wrong?
For me, the guilt I have,
it screams so loud.

There’re two kinds of people:
one kind forgives.
But that isn’t you, no,
and you don’t forget.

As I lean over to whisper,
“you’ve dropped your crown,”
your look is so telling -
you remember, yet.

Biting my fingers
Watching the wall until the paint lifts
Legs twitch
Bass drum pulse in my ears
Smoke clears (now they see me)
Eyes red
Head floating in a cloud of worry
Hurry to lock the door
I’ve been here before
You live here
You lived here
Eight o’clock comes
I was supposed to meet someone
Hate written on the mirror
Eyes in pairs move past the window
Do they know?
Nine o’clock comes
Plans canceled
Deaf to silence
Television, yes
Sit down
Eat popcorn
Laughing while I witness
The death of my
Dreams

**** all you gun-toting hillbilly blowhards.
**** Mr. President - the First Lady, too.
**** your little pseudo-democracy circus.
All of you animals belong in a zoo.

**** your religions, I pay no penance.
**** what you've written and passed on as God.
******* for shoving it all down my throat.
I know better than to listen to frauds.

I'm tired of people waving their fingers.
I'm tired of giving, I want to take.
I'm tired of ignorance fed to the masses.
My eyes are open, I am awake.

When
she drove away
(her freedom, at last)
I let out a sigh.

Her
angry displays -
(it all happened so fast) -
my heart was defied.

I sat on the edge of our bed
and I hummed a soft tune.
I woke myself up on the floor
where our pictures were strewn.

She
must be alright
(she hasn't called yet).
I'm living alone.

And me?
I'm doing fine
(but it's hard to forget
that this bird has flown).

I remember when we were children
my sister and I used to go outside
and pretend we were stranded
in the wilderness
and had to survive until we were rescued.
On one particular day in winter
we went out and built a shelter
out of sticks and small branches
and we got inside and waited.
We imagined that there were
wolves outside that wanted to
eat us alive,
but we fended them off with our
sticks and stones and snowballs.
Now we are both in our mid-twenties
and, ironically, we still play this game,
and there are still wolves outside
who want to eat us alive.
We are still waiting to be saved.

(You)
You’re flying over my head.
(Now)
Now the sun’s in my eyes.
(I)
I have both my wings spread,
(But)
but never learned how to fly.

You’re supposed to wait for me, girl.
You know I’m scared of the fall.