1997
the roots of my family tree
are shallow and malnourished,
breaking through the Earth's skin as a reminder
that it cannot always keep the ugly
hidden underneath.
my DNA is a life sentence for a crime
I never wanted to commit.

1999
my father called my brother a king
before he even left the womb.
a solar eclipse that has lasted years
because of my inability to escape his shadow;
though, I'm not sure I ever will.
the world will always be his stage,
and I, just a poorly constructed backdrop.

2005
my skin has turned
black and blue back into flesh.
I hope, one day,
my mind takes a lesson from my body
and learns how to forget you.

2011
they call him the all merciful god,
and I can't help but to laugh,
because the only thing he promised
to those who hurt me was forgiveness.
I prayed up until the day
god changed his phone number.
atheism is a learned behavior;
I only wonder when god stopped
believing in me.

2015
I live my life in reverse.
I drink coffee at midnight,
read the epilogues first,
go to bed in the morning.
I spent my childhood in this grave,
now it is time to dig myself out.

When my glance meets his stare
I am lost in his eyes.
I panick, burned by the intensity,
And dart my own eyes to the side.
Longing to reach out and trace the lines of his shadowed face out of pure wonder
With my pale, trembling fingers.
Wishing in that same moment,
That I am inside his arms
Where I am home, and steady and at peace.
But when he reaches for me, I begin to tremble, out of fear, the fear of my own heart.
And when I pull away, and my frozen stare meets his burning one,
My mind goes blank and my breathing stops.

Your lips were open - pursed to say something
whatever it was got lost in the excitement
whatever it was there was no remission
there had to be something that gave permission

There were good spots but you never knew which was best
you could see mountains and valleys along with the rest
pictures of sea urchins and anemones on the wall
spiders from Mars covering the ends of it all

They danced and frolicked standing on guard
to get past them you needed something hard
but it was easier to pass thro' the eye
of a needle than to enter the kingdom of heaven

God gave us pleasure to pursue at our leisure
it was always rewarding to find buried treasure

You hand me a Piece of dotted paper and a pen
And you tell me
To connect the little black dots
But as I look at the paper it expands
It grows and stretches till it is an ocean
Massive expansive and the dots drift farther apart on the waves
And I lose them among the ocean spray
So when you hand me the paper and a pen
And expect me to connect the dots
Sometimes I'm being tossed in a storm
And sometimes connectivity is not a possibility
Sometimes I can't do what you ask me to
Because to me the dots are an ocean apart
And I've no clue how to sail.

he held up a dead coyote
like he had just won first prize
smiling from ear to ear
a look of pride in his eyes

the caption said "predator control"
which brought a question to my mind
if we call survival being a predator
then what do we call our kind?