"It's never too late to have a happy childhood."

Dear Mr. Trump,
I know the Russians aren't the reason for your recent election. Putin slapped the democrats with a rock-hard misdirection. There's no need to conduct a voter poll inspection. In any case, I think America's made the right selection.

Dear Mr. Trump,
I can't believe that some are questioning your mental stability. Do subjects have the right to challenge nobility? To do so, I feel, would be a lesson in futility.  Those of us still in your cabinet think you're doing the job brilliantly.

Dear Mr. Trump,
I am writing to urge you to declare war in the east. Don't listen to the media, the democrats or Chinese. Don't listen to the South Koreans, those ***** only see half of what your great white eyes can see.

Dear Mr. Trump,
I think it's great what you've done
to our military. All those phoney genitals, generals, were starting to scare me. Guns are no use in the hands of a fairy. And besides, when they die, that's 10,000 less soldiers to bury.

Dear Mr. Trump,
When will construction on the wall begin? Those ******* are causing too many problems within. Besides, I think we can take it one step further and completely wall ourselves in. But keep up the good work - I know you'll make America great again.

let us run naked thru time square
and wave insanely at the cameras,
or paint the white house pink
before we also burn it down.
     let us fill our wombs with cement
and lament the passing of sexuality
as it was and exist as little more
than statues at the mercy of the weather.
     and let us ****** our pasts
and those we knew
and engrave our portraits
on the sidewalks
which in turn will flood over
with the bitter tears
of the former generation --
     all to spite a faceless enemy.

In the shopping center
     I feel like an exile.
     As I write this,
sitting on a patio furniture display,
I realize I am the only one
without a cart full of cardboard
and artless plastic.
     A seasoned couple quarrels in the next aisle over which
shower curtain to go home with
as if it really matters at all.
     Children yearn for the colorful things, women the shiny,
men the dangerous.
     I want to tell them that if
they want color, brilliance, and danger,
they should listen to Elvis Presley
or read Tom Robbins.
     Anyway, I buy the lawnchair
I've been sitting on
and walk out the door.

He's going bald
like my dad
So he wears a cap
like my dad.
He likes Led Zeppelin
like my dad.
He drives a Ford
like my dad.
He votes republican
like my dad.
He holds my mother.
But he's not my dad.

They say when I die
there's a place I'll go
where every face
will be one I know.
Some call it heaven,
and I hope it's true.
But what paradise
compares to you?

I was just a lonely
little bag of bones,
but you took me with you,
gave me a home.
Each word you spoke then,
like a breath of spring -
your lovely laughters,
and the joys they bring.

You say I'm funny
for the way I feel,
the things I say,
glances I steal.
But you don't know just
what it is like
to lie beside you,
in bed at night

to feel the beating
of your precious heart,
to see you rising
at each day's start.
I'll take you with me
whenever I go
so lost is a feeling
I won't have to know.

And when I die
there's a place I'll go
where every face
will be one I know.
And I'll call it heaven.
It can be our new
little bed to lie in.
Just me and you.

I remember as a child
how desperately I would fight away the needles,
no matter that they were to make me better.
To this day, nothing has changed.

I am not what you expected
when you went searching for answers.
I too come with a question:
what is the use?

When you're holding my heart
can you feel the cancer?
When you kiss my lips
can you taste the abuse?

And do you want to hold me?
Do you want to touch me?
Do you really believe you've got what it takes?
Do you think you can control me?
Do you think you can love me?
How long will you last before your heart breaks?

Say, pretty baby,
won’t you climb aboard this train with me?
Now, now, now, pretty honey.
Don’t think twice just come along.
It’s been a long time coming,
and we’re sure to be a long time gone.

When I got up this morning,
heard the whistle when the train got in.
Yeah, when I woke up this morning,
heard the train as it rolled in.
And I knew it was gonna be a good day.
I’ll pick you up quarter to ten.

Well, your daddy, he done left you.
Left you in that pourin’ rain.
And your momma, she’s no good, child.
Causes you all kinds of pain.
But me, I always been there for ya.
Come along and your heart won’t ache again.

You’re just workin’ day and night.
No friends to call your own.
Workin’ as a waitress day and night
with no friends to call your own.
Don’t you know I’ll be your friend, girl?
I’ll be whatever and you won’t have to feel alone.

Well, I see your got your dress on.
And, yes, I’ll take that as a sign.
Yeah girl I see you got your hair up.
I will take that as a sign
that we’re headed to Chicago.
I’m glad you made up your pretty mind.

Say, pretty baby,
I sure am happy you’re here with me.
O, yes little darlin’,
you made my day shine oh so bright.
Not much longer though, my baby.
We’ll get there ‘fore the end of the night.

I was talking to a preacher,
he said God was on my side.
So I looked left and I looked right.
"Then why's he so hard to find?"
He invited me to mass
but I respectfully declined.

Next day I saw a billboard,
"God is on his way.
Put on your Sunday best
'cause He'll be here today."
Why should I go to church, then?
There's nothing left to say.

I could use a bit of saving, sure,
but I'm too proud to bend my knees.
A drink shared with a woman
will put my soul at ease.
You can call me a sinner,
and all the angels would agree.

Your body moved like ocean waves
                beneath me,
    the wet taste of salt shared between our lips,
        moonlight reflecting off metallic jewelry
like little lighthouse beacons gleaming in the darkness.
And in that fleeting moment
      of equal parts fear and fulfillment,
  when there is no moon or movement
             and all is quiet and still,
                 I felt myself sink into you
             and I have yet to hit bottom.

I'll look out for you
no matter where I will go.
You taught me to love.

I feel like I am
tumbling down a mountainside
I should be climbing.

The tears come easy.
I wish they weren't for you, but
everything is.

You say I'm no man
because I cry and have doubts.
I really don't know.

I wonder if you
give thought to me in these times
when I feel most lost.

I don't know my voice.
I haven't heard it in years.
But I do know yours.

Velvet tongue. Serpent.
It's hard to touch your skin or
look into your eyes.

Well,
love and hate are both
good reasons to do anything.
However,
out of love comes love,
and out of hate comes hate.
So,
before you're done,
there's always this choice to be made.

Got broken up with today.
Expect poetry soon.

When an egotist tosses money,
scattering it at your feet,
never stoop to collect it,
no matter how poor you may be.

Within the blinking of an eye
we live our lives and then we die
with no time left to ponder why
A baby's breath, a tired sigh

We look back on how much we've grown
the loves we had, the threads we've sown
to find ourselves here all alone
with weary heads and hearts of stone

Fighting just to say goodbye
and when we do begin to cry
we sing ourselves a lullaby
and finally we shut our eyes

Bedroom, her movements so arcane
with sparks that waltz across her face.
She won't be coming back today;
she loves in many different ways.

Far right, far left.
Same rancid breath.
Two heads, same beast.
Sharp claws, palms greased.

We have the numbers.
They have the guns.
Let's meet at the center.
Let's have some fun.

You might call me pathetic
     when I beg you to stay,
or when I cry after hearing
     that you've fallen out of love.
I would say I'm simply a romantic
     with inclinations toward      heartbreak.
     I would say that that is my definition of love.
     If that's the case, then I guess
I can't blame you for
     falling out of it.

God punishes us forever
because we merely sought knowledge
in The Garden,
long before things were written down.

Did not the masters of the slave trade
demonstrate the same authority -
denying their subjects knowledge,
or simply the hope of betterment -
as they toiled in their gardens?

And are the descendants of those subjects
not still punished by self-proclaimed masters
who are little more than masters of none
but ignorance and inequality?

And yet, we pray that God may show us the way.

Babe, you know I'd love to go and
meet your mother,
but I've been hearing that she
kicks like a mule.
Maybe I should just go
undercover
so I don't seem like such a fool.

You whispered my name.
It carried with wind
and made it to my ear,
to my pillow was pinned.

Evenings forsaken
most nights I'm alone,
dragging my feet like
I'm tied to a stone.

Where have you been, love?
The knife turns and twists.
I long to discover
that you still exist.

Taking it slow, now.
No sudden movements or I
might come to love you.

A whole world laid out beneath you
like a mother's arms,
you stood in infancy facing the stars,
and I remember thinking as I watched you
that I shouldn't speak,
that those million little suns
will teach you everything you need.

Fine,
I'm as awful as you say
and I just get in the way
when you're stretching out
your wings.

But,
did you ever stop to think
that you're the missing link
in this chain that you
have made?

Yes,
the one that keeps you down
like the corners of your mouth
when a smile is trying to
come out.

So,
just before you turn me loose,
I ask you to think of whose
fault this is and what's
to gain.

All the same eyes, same minds,
in all the same places -
day in, day out -
casting their sparks
of doubt or defiance,
never bothering to question
what either is aimed at.

You are the reason I look out the window at night and smile.
You give light to the darkness, it is your nature.
You bring thrill to an elsewise soulless sea.
Though I saw you not that night, you were there
(part of me) at my birth and,
come time to die, I will look on you and smile, again.

Are you afraid to write dangerously, fellow poets?
Is love all there is to talk about?
It seems that perhaps you have yet to find your voice,
and that's fine.
But, when I read your poems, I become worried.
Your heartbreaks are important, yes -
it's part of your experience -
but there is more happening in this world,
and I'm sure you have something to say about it.
I'd love to hear your thoughts.

The American dream
is only a dream -
a dream in which
the dreamer is obsolete.
For those who
both sleep and dream
in her streets,
America is a reality
too real to deny,
like a ladder too high
to be climbed,
like a bar too hard
to be bent.
And after each dollar
is spent,
after each shining diamond
find its way to a pocket,
the dream becomes
more and more a dream
that we become
less and less likely
to wake up from.

Even when walking
Backwards you still get a bit
Of mud on your shoes.

I held out my hand
And caught all the drops of rain
While you danced in joy.

I laughed in her face
When she told me that she was
Afraid of my dog.

I stood in the dirt
Looking for the picture of
You I didn't burn.

Girl in the black dress
Turns to girl in the red dress
And sticks out her tongue.

The car pulled up and
Out stepped a man wearing a
Better tie than mine.

America has
Exhausted her options and
Now looks to the east.

The elderly sing
With no inhibition for
More days like once were.

As the day passes,
Sunlight crawls across my floor
But can't quite reach me.

I dug up your bones.
They did not resemble you.
So I put them back.

Crouching at the shore,
My reflection reached out and
Carried me to sea.

The toilet was clogged -
That's why, instead, I chose to
**** in your sock drawer.

This really happened:
A cow jumped over the moon.
Can you believe it?

Called up my mother,
Told her, "Don't wait up for me."
She did anyway.

So many noises.
So many people outside.
So many secrets.

I removed her pants
And looked in her eyes and vi-
olently farted.

She put on her pants,
Spit in my eye, and then she
Galloped to the door.

When I got to heaven, lord,
dont ya know there was
no one there.
So I tipped my hat,
turned 'round and walked
back down the stairs.
Yeah, this world's full o' sinners,
but I was just too lonely there.

I could've had religion, now.
Could've read the good book
every night.
Could've been a preacher,
said my prayers and
chased the light.
Instead I went chasin' trouble.
Guess religion didn't suit me right.

They say every livin' man, now,
sooner or later,
has his day.
And it could come tomorrow,
or it could come when you're
old and gray.
I didnt think much about it.
I just kept doin' things my own way.

So when I got to heaven, now,
dont ya know there was
no one there.
So I tipped my hat.
Tipped my hat and walked
back down the stairs.
Yeah, this world's full o' sinners,
but I was just too lonely there.

She was born in a mushroom cloud,
1945.
Uranium halo 'round her head
and stars inside her eyes.

They pulled her from her desert womb
and the whole world with her cried.
"The War is Over!" Peace at last!
Mother Atom had arrived.

Mother your house
Will be empty soon.
Mother your husband
Is gone.
Mother your dogs
Now run wild.
Mother your kids
Will not sleep until dawn.

Mother your shadow
Is weeping.
Mother your shades
Have been drawn.
Mother your bed's
Not been made in ten years.
Mother you stand
In the sun and you yawn.

Move into me, certain and gentle.
Move with the beauty borrowed from wind.
With your hands full of flowers,
move like a child who moves like
her life has no beginning or end.

Move, with your hands, the keys to make music.
Move, little bird, into my lonely tree.
Move without fear of becoming lost.
Move into view, move into me.

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.

Woman,
I know it is
killing you -
the quiet -
because it is
killing me, too.

The moment
you told me that
we were through,
I got lost,
and now it's all that
I can do -

to be humbled
by the thought
of loving you -
to be angry
at what I thought I
needed to do -
to be happy
with being just one,
no longer two.

Sometimes when I lie
half awake in the night
the streetlights take
the form of your face.
The way that they twist
and they turn and they kiss.
But I wont settle for this
cold embrace.

So I'm here on all fours
feeling 'round for the door.
Gotta see you once more.
Please be soon,
'cause I'm tired of being
trapped under this ceiling
or starin' outside
at the moon.

One more hour in your arms
is all that I need to feel warm.
One last kiss and I'm gone
and I won't bother you anymore.

Do you still remember
that day in November
when I held your hand
in the park?
The light danced around you,
I was happy I found you.
Tell me, how did it end up
so dark?

Now I'm talking to shadows,
wond'rin' where does the time go?
I don't know, but I
waste too much.
If you want to ignore me,
it's prob'ly best for me.
I'm a fool and I acted
as such.

But if you find your heart changes,
if your hate rearranges
into something that I'll recognize,
don't brush it away, girl.
Find something to say, girl,
and we can begin to revise.

One more hour in your arms
is all that I need to be warm.
One kiss is all that it takes
to make all the light shine
once more.

I never heard
the door unlock
but *******
I wanted to.