"are we playing a game?"
she asks slyly...
looking out of the
corner of her eyes.

(he is not there)

"is this a game of hide and seek,
with no seek?"

(no answer)

she has never played this game,
if that's what it is.

all the silly men
say the
same
thing.

"no drama. no games."

but she thinks
the truth is that
they thrive on drama
they come alive in games.

is this what we do, now?
arrange people like
players on a chessboard?

check them
in and out
like books?

blindfold them,
spin them around,
then run away?

Again, she asks,
"is this a game?"

(silence)

many men scurry away
from confrontation
slip away in the night
to avoid truth

"if this is a game,
i think you are losing",
she says quietly.

synapses snap.
permit me to pass.

sun sustain light
sun invade cells
sun create life

i'll speak of
the f a l l
   if i must.
i can get on board
  with
crispness...
  beautiful
warm shades
   of orange, red,
and yellow.
i can even
   appreciate a
new sweater,
  the feel of my
my skin being
covered instead
   of revealed.

i will not
speak
   of the winter
every year
i ask myself
    if i will make it
through this winter
all year i feel
it retreating and
gaining on me
the gloom of the
   sunless sky
the dead
   s n o w l e s s
ground
  void of color,
life.
    frigid cold
treacherous roads
miserable gloom
   sun
   sun
   sun
where have you gone?
i have no love
   for the cold
i am a daughter of sol

i will even
  speak of the spring
if i must
     it is nice
hearing the birds
  seeing new blooms
but i want
to be in the g r i p
of the sun
blazing glory
of luminous rays
   summer
is my home

so do not
ask me to speak
of the coming
winter
because i will not.
i will not speak
of the pressing anxiety
my secret murmurings
to the sun
to make an
exception
and remain
triumphant in the
sky for me.

no.
of the winter
i will not speak.

it is incredibly h a r d
to see the blocks
in your own t h i n k i n g

this song
   moving me both backward
and forward simultaneously
and i feel the pull
of a thousand moons
   toward you.

there was a moment,
long ago
when i looked up
   and there your gaze was
   and i l o o k e d for a fractionofasecondtoolong

because now i know it is
the moment i actually saw you.

is no more real
than you
or i.

He wields his hammer
   without mercy
bring
the
metal
d
o
w
n
time and space
    e  x  p  a  n  d  i  n  g
crushing metal to earth
         to vibration to sound

my head snaps to the left
         vibration through earth
                through atom through drum
a fire ignites...a fire BURNS...a fire smolders
nostrils flare
  apertures contract straining to focus
      heart valves pump unnaturally
         oxygen is scarce
knees weaken
and i  s
             i
               n
                  k
arms of steel
     guide my hips...
(keep breathing)
strands of gold
     brush my neck
(open your eyes)
kisses so light
  turn to a force of nature
(by the forgotten gods,
              you are beautiful)
teeth playfully snap
    eyes shine
(breathe, woman, breathe)

our neurons are mirrored
   our pheromones agree
now comply...surrender...submit

your cape is irrelevant
  the crimson does not impress me
you do not need it to take flight

your armor is useless
  i can pierce it simply
with a look from my blue eyes

what of your hammer, Thor?
it is all of what you are;
heavy with burden
  spinning and light with hope
crushing the earth with music
raised high to lead
          with a steady hand
hailing a booming storm
    light electrifying

be assured - your hammer is your own
i do not desire to take what is yours
    to smother your light
         to limit your branches

i only wish to see you grow in strength
  in beauty
       in music
            in light

and so i will wait...
for the thunder of the hammer
   crushing the ground
calling me home.

i used to be one thing,
and now,
i'm another.

what of it?

why you gotta be so mean?
despite my hopeless creative knocking
dead air
is
dead air...
   just why you gotta be so mean?
   simplifying explanations
    to the point of
     a b s t r a c t i o n

whatever
the ****
this is,
i reject it.

i am done.

i'm sad.
i'm hurt.
i'm disappointed.
you raised me
to lean into truth.
you taught me
right from wrong,
and stressed above all things
k i n d n e s s and love.
and today you align yourself
with a man utterly lacking
integrity.
a man that openly mocks
the disabled
veterans
and ****** assault survivors.
you defend this man in public and
i am so confused.
so s t u n n e d.
and i have been q u i e t for
hundreds and hundreds of days
ruminating
trying to figure out
if you have always
been this other person.

sometimes i just
say what i think,
because once
i'm gone
what else of me
is there
anywhere
in
    the
         universe?

when you
already have
something,
you take that
thing for granted.

when you have
the better of
something,
you take for
granted those
who have less.

what you have
reached, you
expect others
to also reach.

but you
are not everyone,
and everyone
is not you.

some of what
you have,
i do not.
and some of
what i have,
she does not.

you should be
looking below you,
not above.
that is where you
will find the answers.

if everyone is
reaching below
and
lifting up
no one
is left behind.

[i would hold onto something if i were you]

so...
just hurtled down
the QEW
120 km/h
for 2 hours
in pieces of metal slapped
together - real close to other
people doing the same
(i find it worrisome that no
one finds this strange)

cuz, you know
i needed some alone time
aha...aha...ha...ha
in my shiny metal tomb
eyes wide in the dark
(you know, trying to avoid
   obstacles and ****?)
music ******* B O O M I N G
  it's not right
until the bass
          sits in my throat
   and i get a shiver up my back
now we're ready to hurtle through space
       deaf to the outside world

in addition,
  i decided to commit 1% brain power
            to drinking coffee
  i don't know, say 3% to navigating
                 2% to wondering why my left eye was
                 ******* hurting
.5% to wondering if I really had roaming turned off
      
at one point,  *99%  to figuring out why the *mirage looming ahead
       looked like a battleship - my mind racing -
how could this be - the shapes
the lights - i squint - look for water
                   turns out it was a ******* restaurant
with all kinds of lights outlining edges...but it
really ramped up my concern
in terms of reality there
(for a moment)

i've got some
serious mind-racing
word-related issues
as of late
so this little vision quest
on the QEW
i can't even begin to unravel
in a single paltry
word splash

if i try...
to simplify

i'm a little concerned
that the reason of
my being...the nature
of this crybaby,
ambien-mice-feeding
lunatic
(i'll get to that in a sec)
boils down to:

cooked carrots, high school band, art,
Nancy Drew, and
Star Trek the Next Generation

-

uh...about the mouse
believe me
i freak the **** out
if a mouse is running around
in a goddman house
jesus h - it has to go
but
it was decided the mouse
was to be caught
on a sticky mouse trappy trap
with a piece of cheese

i arrived home
to a very alive mouse
very very stuck
in a sickening way...
but problem solved...yes?

oh no, my friend...problem times two
i did not like to see the mouse in this state.
and i sure as hell wasn't gonna
throw it in the garbage like some kind of animal!
(the gross beady eyed little thing...
but the tail is the worst)

i laid down on the floor
and looked at it
and it wanted the ******* cheese.
so i fed it some.
yeah, that's right.
i fed the ******* mouse some ******* cheese
i mean christ, can't the poor
thing have a last meal?
i mean it just happened to
get into my house.

i laid on the kitchen floor a long time...
looking at that mouse,
feeding it cheese.
and then i was trying to think of how
to **** it fast (cuz you know, i **** **** all the time?)
and i couldn't think of anything...
until brilliance behold - i could drug the **** thing!

if i can take a whole ******* ambien,
then surely a mouse cannot
without consequences plenty
so if i crush one up,
with a mortar and pestle,
yeah, that's right...
a mortar and ******* pestle
*******
all i have to do is sprinkle
some ambien on the cheese
and boom
night night
ambien cheese dream

all i'm gonna say is
that things did not go
as planned
ambien face
      mouse
snow

i would like
to turn in
my wizardry card

i would like
to drop
an art bomb
an f-bomb
(a freak bomb)

and disappear
in a fog of
green smoke

oh, you didn't know?
i am
the queen of rocking art
i am a sorcerer
a conjurer
of souls
and color

i have been
crowned
by children

i eat and sleep
children
their hopes
their disappointments

i hold up
a mirror
and make them
face themselves
their success
their failures

then i cast
spells to
inspire their
action
stand ready
to catch tears
and embrace
joy

i conjure
experiences
made of
     graphite
stop bath
         zeroes000 and ones111
and | pigment |
at an
impossible rate

i look inside
the souls
of
every
single
child
to find
which of
my magics
will spur
them to greatness

and my magic
grows
i use sorcery
to accumulate
new recipes
new spells
new questions

i use my wand
to summon
the forces
of earth
to make time
stand still
i forgo food
and rest
because demand
for this
queen
is
high

but alas,
i want to
turn in my
wizard card

hand it to
my overlords
because
my superhuman
wizardry
is not enough

my   e x p l o s i o n s
of thought
   my insistence
on  quality
     my very
humanity...
all
  swords
    in my side

i have
mastery over
light

colors
seep into
every
word uttered
every
letter written
every
glance
from my
eyes

i am a
sorcerer
(read: i am a nys teacher)
but sorcery
is not enough
my overlords
want
*the gods, themselves

you can’t
u n see
the
m a t r i x

i despise
the evening news
i avoid it at all costs

but accidental news
informed:

there is a punishment for twerking.
you will get kicked out of the dance.

i can't even
describe how hilarious
that sounds to me

and while i'm sitting here considering...

all that is going through my head is:

*i don't see nothing wrong
with a little bump and grind...

i looked
for the evidence
of myself
and it was gone.

i used to feel
   such tenderness
a calm assurance of truth

now i am hard
   poised to strike
*i am no one's soft place to land

good at not feeling
and not thinking about you
if i slip
heart thuds
light dims
i hear our low voices
the music floating
the air is hazy
soft smiles
hair in the light
fingers touching
lines on your face
and i am slipping
back back back

(i want love in these woods)

while walking in
the quiet woods
        humidity causing
  blonde hair to stick
            to my neck
on wooden path
my footsteps move
and on highest railing
a squirrel beckons
      i smile */a real smile/
she stops
       as if listening for my footsteps
       then scampers forward
       a few more feet
       stops...tilts her head
       eyes gleaming
       listening for me again

i think she is the squirrel queen
bidding me to follow her
to my lover
waiting in the woods
i want love in these quiet woods
in the quiet night
under the moon
oh what a night
that would be
with you
the smell of the leaves
the sound of the crickets
eyes twinkling
soft blankets
this* night
   you should whisk me away
   to a place in the woods

but, alas
the squirrel queen
scampered into the woods
and i'm sitting
at a picnic table
in filtering sunlight
sticky
transfixed
heart pounding
dreaming of
love in the woods
with you.

i honest to god
think i’m
in a dysfunctional
relationship
with
nys

like yeah, the times
that you are nice ARE good times...
but you are
barely ever nice?!

there are many ideas
and theories about
art appreciation,

and what one needs to know
in order to
appreciate a work of art.

it appears to be true
that art can be appreciated
  without knowing
who, what, where, when,
why -
or how.

it is possible to only
have the raw sensory experience
of a thing -
and then to extrapolate (or
not extrapolate)
any further meaning or purpose,
and to just appreciate
a thing for
its semblance and
beauty.

but what happens
when you do
find out the
who, what, where, when,
why -
and how.

what t h e n?


and so it is the same for people.

i somehow have
to slice up
these vast expanses
into minute pieces
but time
is running
out.

for you,
love is a common thing.
you practically trip over it.

for me,
it is rare.

(since i’m at least trying to be positive)


i mean,
i guess at least now
i can f e e l the
   beginnings of the
untethering sooner?
and therefore
have more time
to throw out
hints and outright
warnings  ¯_(ツ)_/¯

[i wanted to say that
i give you more
than you deserve,
but that would be mean.]

gang
    gang
GANG
   |gang|

i think
i must have thought
there was only
one way.
one path.
one love.

now i know
there is no w a y -
only infinite paths
and infinite love.

(sometimes)


my favorite
wine glass
broke today,
shattered.

faded purple glass,
heavy in my hand
a crackled texture.

i was
careless.

i put it too
close
to the
edge.

i remember
buying it.
choosing it.
only buying
one,
because i
am just one.

i'm mad at
myself
for becoming
attached
to a
piece of
glass.

because all
my favorite
things
break,
crack,
fall away.

and now there is
glass in
my foot
to remind me

of all
the things
i place
too close
to the edge.

i am a
happy red bird
with edges
that smudge
wet paint and
my favorite
self-leveling top coat
a slick and beautiful shine
in this
   ******* world of mine.

sometimes you
just can't buy
your favorite cheese.

(seems simple enough)

yet all things
are veiled
under layer upon layer
of decision.

there are all these
people
just going around
passing through
my life
thinking they are
n o t h i n g
   or maybe fleeting
or forgotten
when they have
no idea
that they
are life itself,
and to me
are each
so unfathomably unique
and beautiful,
that the mere
thought of them
sustains me.

the view
from down here
is appalling
and i fear
i will never
be among
the stars
again.
only a fool
seeks the stars.

lying in a
pool of tears
on my
commercially
friendly
beige
carpet
i know what
is not for me.
never was for me.

i remember
when all the
world and love
were young
and truth
in every
shepherd's tongue.

i remember
dreams i had
before
i came
down
here.

i
hate
it
here.

but at least
i have
truth
in my
heart.
truth is a
cold companion
it sits with
me in silence
day
after day
after
day.

music is not for me
its effects are
too overwhelming
yet i listen
anyway
mile
after mile
after
mile

day
after day
after
day
through rolling hills
sunrise and
afternoon light
windmills
stand proud
their master unseen
grasses stretch
toward the sun
leaves fall
from the trees
and i stumble
in between.

i see cows
chewing their
cud
eyes dead and
i find no
pleasure in
eating.

mile
after mile
after
mile
with truth
and lies
i fly as
fast
as i dare
just
so i
can walk
up ugly
green stairs
and try
to convince
myself
that
i
am
home.

love is not for me
though love
overwhelms me
consumes me
since my eyes
first opened
and oxygen rushed
into lungs
pen to paper
and mind
to heart
i have
loved
and loved
and
loved
and
i
cannot
stop.

i am
made of
love
but love is not for me.
it never was
for me.

nothing is for me.
nothing.

we are protesting.

why we won't shut up.

because we are angry.
because we have had enough.
and we are throwing down
a line in the sand.

enough.

standing up for yourself
and other human beings
in the face of danger and adversity
is one of the hardest things
a person can do.

it takes guts.
it takes determination.
it takes strength.

and for that you mock us
like children.
calling us names.

you are reflecting in every way
what we find repulsive
in this man.

for months,
we heard every excuse
in the book to
get your man
off the hook.

about women.
about minorities.
about immigrants.
about refugees.
about the first amendment.

people continue to struggle
for things you take
for granted.

and instead of showing
kindness, empathy, and understanding,

you align yourself
with a demagogue

who has no problem
standing in front
of the world
complaining.
whining.
showing contempt
and ignorance for everyone
under the sun.
blaming everyone else for his problems.

shows absolutely no empathy
for anyone but a select few.

seeks, encourages,
and causes
division.

i'm not sure what is going on
inside you that
you can't see that.

that you can't recognize
danger when it is about
to engulf you.

that you can't remember
the cold facts of history.

when one group of
citizens' rights are threatened,
we are all threatened.

when one group is marginalized,
we are all marginalized.

you feel safe in this society.

and you don't
understand
those of us
who do not.

you do not put yourself
in the place of others.

some of us can.
and some of us do.
some of us have
seen injustice,
inequality,
and bullying
with our own eyes.

some of us realize
that even though you don't think
your way of life is in jeopardy,
it is.

and by standing up for ourselves
we are standing up for you.

we have to protect the most
vulnerable among us.

we are done with excuses.
with discrimination.
with sexism.
with victim blaming.

we are done.

so, yes
you are going to
see opposition.

and if you spread
lies, nonsense, and hatred

don't expect to go
unchallenged.

*because we are done.