If my life were music...

it would be an unlistenable cacophony of sound.
It would be carefully scripted symphonies
interrupted by screaming brass improvisations
It would be triumphant orchestral overtures made ridiculous by banjos and Jew’s Harps
It would be beautiful meditative chant debased by infusions of guitar-screeching heavy metal.
If my life were music...

It would be looped and played continuously at Gitmo.

My friend died today.

He loved kids,
He was playful until his body wouldn't let him play any longer.  
Despite the pain that he must have suffered
the last few months of his life,
he endured stoically and without complaint;
even managing a smile
to greet old friends
and other visitors.

He was curious and smart and loyal
Devoted to those who showed kindness to him.
He was protective
without being overbearing, intrusive, or jealous.

My friend loved the countryside
Where he lived out the last few years of his life.
Having acres to roam and explore suited his wanderlust.
Having a family that loved him filled his heart with happiness.

He loved to hike and camp.
Exploring new trails, meadows, and beaches were his favorite diversions.

He loved hotdogs.
He had a floppy ear,
3/4 of a tail
and hated to be confined.

I loved that old dog
and I know that he loved all of us.

Rest easy my friend.
May you find plenty of places to explore in your next home.

Water the plants,
****, forgot to water the plants.

What else?
I fed the fish,
threw out the trash,
walked the dog,
but there was one other thing….

What the hell was it?

Right, here it is,
on this slip of paper,
call the Alzheimer’s Foundation.

Why do I need to do that?

When I am sick,
I am a wounded animal.

I am alone,
nursing myself back to health.

I do not want your help.
I do not seek your comfort.

My path to wellness is a solitary journey
Written in my spirit
at the beginning of time.

Possible is a Lie

Teachers tell you that anything is possible
You can do anything
Be anything.
They  wrong.

I can’t be White
I can’t be the son of a Congressman
I can’t be from a good neighborhood
Or a good school.

I can’t have an older brother that still alive
Or a baby sister whose eyes look 16 and not 46
Or a father that come around
Or a mother that give a ****

I can’t get a night without police helicopters
And gun shots
And sirens

Here

Possible is police dogs
And handcuffs
And tasers
And batons
And County

Possible is an angry bullet

Not a scholarship
Possible is a rap sheet

Not a Bachelor’s Degree

Possible is getting mines


Any way I can

Please pray for the ill
Please pray for the hungry
Please pray for the terrified
Please pray for the vulnerable
Please pray for the unemployed
Please pray for the lonely and disenfranchised
Please pray for the Godless – they need it most.

Alex the Goddess of Sport wields a lacrosse stick menacing all who enter the crease
Ben is the Waffle God, protector of the butter and syrup
Caitlin is the Goddess of whimsy adding mirth to all she touches
Daniel brings the rain and gloom
Emma looms quietly in the stacks guarding the fantasy fiction
Finn the Demigod of Sloth doesn’t do much at all
Gregorius is the Master of Letters, his countenance is exacting
Hannah rules fashion, her judgment is fierce
Isabelle finds friends for the lonely and lost
Jack is an academic Titan, the ruler of grades, ensures A’s at all cost
Katie rules art, all of the drawing and paint
Lana protects the good, the quiet little Saints
Mindi is the Goddess of…. No one really knows what she does
Nora guides the Orchestra with a golden baton
Olivia the Healer, nurtures the sick
Phuong the Geometer knows all of the angles
Q’Andre is the Messenger he rules the halls
Rohan the PE God is in charge of the *****
Sarah the Studious supervises homework
Teresa guides the students on and off buses
Uddai the quiet one wanders the night
Valerie is the morning Goddess who turns on the lights
William conducts the choir with a gravelly voice
Xander the disciplinarian issues consequences
Yara remains outside spying the grounds
Zoë the wise helps students make good decisions