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L B Nov 2022
Halloween at Camp LeJuene

So those storage tanks
the ads of late-night-- all talkin' about
some thirty-five years a-leaking like...
some aplastic benzene-apocryphal river

tastes like chemo Kool Aide
forever in the mouth
washing over parade route
seeping into boots and wombs
of cadets who can't hear the music
over a child's laughter-- ever

over failing livers
lined up like lawyers marching
onto glyphosate green
to Parkinsonian cheers
to Taps-solos echoeimg off the stone-
of mind and memory


“No (wo)man left behind
on the multiple ways to myeloma
of justice!

A silence waiting

an eternity
of tiny infant cries
into Love Canal

There will be...

Only billions set aside
for funeral-ic devastation

“Significant compensation”
--being read in a woman's face
in a woman's voice

“...suffering from any of these....
after drinking the water at Camp Le Juene”

at the hands-down
greased palms of


being owned
by military-corpporate
of secrecy

...of Pharma-to-government
laundered to-governments
of banana republics

Mercenery chemicals
Medicine with missile launchers
among military over-runs of...
…of high power rifles,
night goggles, and F-15s

What am I missing here?

...about the rubbery clots and myocarditis?
Has it finally come round to us?

How could I not see!

not recall?
How many years ago--
since I could hear?

the rapid fire!
“The toxic Leaks!”

“...suffered from any of these...”
...feeding tube terrors
Time's tumors
downgrade to errors
Now beside the grief as amputees
--take the field of parade
While Misplaced Rage
pages through abortions of blame
in the chemical caldron
where they ****, shower, and shave

...then towel-dry their babies

or not....

Where are the rapid-fire rats and bats
when we need 'em?

Semper Fi!
L B Mar 2022
You might be surprised by what people read
at the kitchen table
in the evening
with dinner to the side

As for where to die?  
At the kitchen table
like my neighbor Betty—

slumped over her newspaper
arms above her white and lonely head.
L B Jan 2022
Smokey the Bear tried
to warn us
not to play with fire
nor matches
Never any carelessness
so near the flames
A Bunsen's burner
licks the glass

I listened
till the dare
undid the bear
Consumed us
with its hunger
for the science
and the gases
of it

Flicked us out the window
of a sunny day
Cricket dry
the grass
Knee deep in *** butts
in litter
by the underpass

Flames trespass
explode beyond us
After wind-driven flames ripped through Colarado

The scientist for whom the Bunsen burner was named also discovered the volatile elements cesium and rubidium.
L B Dec 2021
“Indian burn?
Let me show ya”
assaulted my arm, my mind
at once

Cannot protest
or change the scream

of blinding stairwell-


of knowing

I will avenge 

will take revenge

at my first… 

blinded spurt of rage
Rebirth as renegade

No age

L B Dec 2021
To the hopeful poet

Then there are the wrong words
the ones out of season--
the ones that harm

Though my words are few in the everyday
they have their reasons
At times, been a gift--
of a second thought
a dream
a chance
Never taken

The sound must be right
and every implication
"The tongue, unruly
is set among the members--

a fire...."

Your first line is cryptic enough.
L B Dec 2021
The Poem Knows

Where its spine is
How with sinews to the bone
its muscles do attach
its finger and its toes goes

How its eyes have seen
and ears have heard
will recognize the voice
that strikes the soul
like latter rain
The poet knows....

The poet
in the secret of the earth
with all the creatures signs her name

Out of last light
to be called
with all her failings
to forgiveness wrought
for her
The love designed
A salve
for love denied
through all those springs

To finally
in God's call
to hear her name
to know him
L B Nov 2021
The last shall be first
and the first last
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