i’ve long dreamt
of black flags in the streets
tonight i marched beneath
the shadow of their wings

shoulder-to-shoulder
in hope and solidarity
an anarchist professor
with a climate change activist
an independent journalist
and one of my students

as mid-November winds tugged
at her pink-and-brunette hair
she lifted a hand-drawn sign
of a gigantic sneaker
smashing a ****
and i felt
for not the first time
an enormous sense of pride

how humbling to at once
inspire and be inspired by
an eighteen-year-old
punk and artist
who asked to borrow
The Moral Imperative of Revolt
two scant months ago
then took to the streets
to oppose and depose
a twisted fascist virtuoso

for two whole hours
we hundreds owned the streets
we marched down Rosalind
Central and Orange Avenue
as protest slogans rang angelic
we raised hell and found heaven
in liberty equality and solidarity

but then the pigs closed in
cordoned to Lake Eola
to scream acquiescent rhetoric
at the fish sleeping
blissful in their innocence
beneath the jet black surface

a half-dozen cops in riot gear
astride horses loomed
ominous before us
backlit by the headlights
of the aggravated motorists
our march had forestalled

as the people abandoned the streets
we’d won so easily
i felt my chest wilt beneath
the weight of forsaken opportunity
my eyes scanned the remaining crowd

four stood strong
rooted to the concrete
by the world's weight
anchored by conviction
an anarchist professor
an independent journalist
a climate change activist
and a freshman college student

i heard the professor whisper to his student
i heard him say she'd put herself in harm’s way
that they'd lost the day when the marchers
turned their backs and walked away
but she didn’t flinch or move an inch
she stood silent and vigilant
shoulder-to-shoulder
chin held almost as high
as her ****-smashing protest sign
and her matching *******

and in that moment
i could’ve died
smiling

so home is where the heart is
so it follows me to work
home is the people's houses I get
on my knees to perfect
so the heart is where it resides
I got into laying vinyl in a  house today
I guess it was like next
to getting drunk
my favorite thing
getting paid to do something
I know well
making someone else's house home and
beautiful
my home has been built
with my muscles and reasoning
I guess
the saying was right!
It follows me everywhere.

What truths I know
are neither quiet
nor clear.
I listen to
the dull and ignorant
when I too
tell my story.
Vain and bitter, yes;
for I have
a lifetime of
comparisons.
Late in life
my body calls me
to wholesome discipline
and gentility.
The universe unfolds
with and without
the full consent
of this particular child.
Peace with Spirit
will keep peace
with my soul.
In spite of
and because of
my best efforts...
it is still
a beautiful world.
I can choose
to be cheerful
and careful.
Strive to be
human;
happiness follows.

The old ****** slowly digs holes
plowing with precision
he places acorns

under peony bushes
behind the old
windmill,
each

day he wearily climbs
the den  tree
curling into
his nest

as the neighborhood
tomcat watches.