I am not ill
How am I responsible for your illness?
I am free
How am I responsible for your imprisonment?
I work
How am I responsible for your struggles?
I am content
How am I responsible for your disquiet?
I am my own master
How am I responsible for your servitude?
I am disciplined
How am I responsible for your chaos?
I am strong
How am I responsible for your weakness?
I am resilient
How am I responsible for your fragility?
I am faithful
How am I responsible for your infidelity?

My strengths
Like my faults
Are my own
And yours are yours

Amputate
His leg
She said so calmly
I thought
Yours first

I am a plain cake donut
Boring
Unfrosted
Easy to disregard

Unless you look on the inside

There you will find
Bacon
that’s interestingly salty;
Black strap molasses
which adds depth
but isn’t too sweet;
And a single berry
for a blast of the unexpected

What's in the jars Granny?
Them's dills
Them's bread and butter
And the smaller jar's spicy pickles

What's in the jars Granny?
That one there's chow chow
Next to it's sweet relish
and the one in back is sauerkraut

What's in the jars Granny?
Well, the purple one's grape jelly
The one in the middle's orange marmalade
and the big brown one's apple butter

Why do you put up so much food, Granny?
Cause I lived through a season of lack called the Great Depression
and I never want y'all kids to be as hungry as my kids were.

Take what you want.
I'll make more.

Vendredi
A fall Friday evening

A football match
A rock show
A café
A restaurant
A night out
In Paris.

A suicide belt
Armed gunmen
A suicide belt
Armed gunmen
A suicide belt

People
You
Me
Mom
Uncle
Baby daughter

Killed
Killed
Blinded
Killed
Maimed
Killed

To appease
A bloodthirsty
Desert god
Allahu Akbar.

Donkeys bray, are you listening?
In the mountains, rocks are glistening,
A desolate sight, we're patrolling tonight
Dodging bullets in East Waziristan
Gone away, is Osama
Now we're stuck with Obama
And one MRE
Between you and me
Patrolling in frozen Waziristan
In the mountains we can drive our Humvees,
Watching out for hidden IEDs
Insurgents shoot and yell
'Allahu Akbar'
Until Spectre’s mini-guns are seen
Then we’ll watch, as she fires
and helps fulfill
martyrdom desires
What a beautiful sight, lighting the night
Miniguns in East Waziristan.

Before he was here
He would have said, "bereft of feeling,"
Now he says TBI

Before he was here,
Overwatch was a game.
Now it keeps him and others alive

Before he was here
He was a conscientious vegan.
Now he's an omnivore,
Devouring vacuum sealed inorganic meat byproducts.
With vigor

Before he was here
Musty was the damp basement smell-- endearing, familiar
Now it's the infection smell -- nauseating, familiar

Before he was here,
There was good and evil,
Now there are only shades of evil

Before he was here
She was there,
Always.
Now she is gone,
Forever.

Before he was here
Death was distant, clinical
Now it's cloying, visceral

He doesn't know if he'll be able
To return to the time before here
He doubts it.

Vea la bellisima y la oportunidad
He sees the beauty and its potential
Vea las flores en el lodo
He sees the flowers in the mud
Vea la felicidad en el dolor
He sees the happiness in the pain
La paz en el ruido
The peace in the chaos

Cada dia toca la tristeza
La pobreza
Pero su orgullo no reduzca
Porque...
Vea la bellisima en la feisima
La felicidad en el dolor
La paz en el ruido
Las flores en el lodo
Es su hogar
Y
Vive para salvar
Cada dia

There are many
The farm
The house on Wilson Road
The places in Texas and Kansas
Not really.

I am not a tree
I am a tumbleweed
Rootless, restless
Waiting for the wind
To take me to the next place

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.

And so he ran
Power coursing through
his
legs gasping
for air that
can't fill his
lungs fast
enough to out-
run his
demons

My teachers say I have privilege
Because my skin is white
Does this privilege protect my family from
the bullets that fly at night?

They say I’ve
Unearned advantages
not given to other races,
If there’s a Black kid somewhere who wants my life
I’d gladly trade them places

They can have the ****** homeless guy
Sleeping by the door
They’re free to take the rancid trash
that litters
Our hallway floor
They can have the drugs and needles
the diarrhea on the stairs
They can have the hopelessness and misery
that I see everywhere

My mom works at two jobs
In the day and late at night
My dad’s upstate in prison
Locked up since I was five
Our apartment’s filled with roaches
and mice that sneak around;
the rats that move inside the walls
make a scratching sound

I wash our clothes in the bathtub
Cause the laundry’s not too safe
Our neighbor was robbed by **** heads,
they slashed him in the face

The mold around the windows
makes my sister sick
Every day I hear her wheezing
struggling for each breath
I worry how Mom would handle
another child’s death

Some days there’s food for us to eat
Some days there is not
The school food wasn’t perfect,
but at least the stuff was hot
Now the small bus brings us sandwiches,
string cheese and a piece of fruit
I wish they delivered on weekends,
We get hungry on those days too

If this is the privilege my whiteness earns
You can have it back
I don’t think squalor plays favorites
White, Hispanic, or Black…

Process hope she says
Find the beauty in all things
Effing counselors

He’s a behavior problem
He’s really smart
He’ll get you killed
He’ll save your life

He’s really smart
He’s too aggressive
He’ll save your life
Look at that face

He’s too aggressive
We’re going to war
Look at that face
He’s absolutely fearless

We’re going to war
He’ll get you killed
He’s absolutely fearless
I was a behavior problem too

Blood red tears streamed…
Coloring her face
Blue
Then yellow.

Looking forward she saw primates
Behind her screaming
“Excelsis!”
to no one in particular.

Listening carefully
she felt the chill
of a raging fire,
crunching,
down the gravel path.

Out of nowhere
Blinding light
Covered her in darkness.
Tossing her wildly against
a thousand razor quills,
soft against her skin.

Grasping the cacophony
the sweet smell of anger
glowed green upon her tongue.
Would radishes grow here?

Disoriented by the pedestrian world
swirling about
She consumed mind-altering substances.
And returned to the unreal events
of
everyday life.

Her hands are neither soft
nor attractive.
They are a white fish belly from too
little time in the sun.
Her nails are stubby and unadorned.
Her fingers are tentacles projecting
unnaturally from undersized palms,
tips rough and calloused.

I must stare
I cannot help myself

Then it begins.
The movement.
The tentacles scamper here and there.
They reach
They touch
They pound and poke
and stretch and crawl
and in their grotesque fury
teach me to love.

Mozart and Chopin
Prokofiev and Bach

The piano is a time machine
transforming the tiny practice room
into the mighty concert halls
of Vienna and Prague.

From the gallery I am
entranced by rhapsodies
seduced by nocturnes
and consumed by symphonies.

I murmur,
does the music stir your soul?

She glances up
briefly
and returns to work.

Yesterday I bumped along dusty farm roads in the back of his truck
Yesterday he proposed to my Godmother
Yesterday I was the ring bearer in his wedding
Yesterday I splashed in his apartment swimming pool with my cousins
Yesterday we went fishing
Yesterday I saw him at the pier
Yesterday we barbecued tri-tip and reminisced over old photos
Yesterday he cheered for the Giants and the 49ers
Yesterday he laughed until tears rolled from the corners of his eyes
Yesterday there was a tomorrow to look forward to…

Tomorrow you will discover worry
Tomorrow you will embrace despair
Tomorrow you will feel remorse
Tomorrow you will taste sadness
Tomorrow you will enter the world
Happy Birthday.

Right and left
Up and down
Clockwise
Counterclockwise
I can't see it

Again and
Again and
Again and
    Again

THEY DON’T FIT

I feel my jaw clench
The muscles in my neck tighten
My heart racing
I chew my lips raw

I CANNOT MAKE THIS WORK!

I don’t need to look at the clock
I can feel the second hand spinning in my brain
Faster for me than the others

I WON’T GET THIS DONE IN TIME!

Sweat and tears dampen my face
My table is a mess of materials
None of the parts fit for me the way they do for everyone else
I hate myself and my useless brain

I’M GOING TO FAIL
I’M GOING TO FAIL

"Time’s up
Turn in your projects"

I AM A FAILURE

Again

Tradition says he’ll come today
With the wind,
In a ray of sunshine
On the arrival of a friendly bird

Was that creak his footfall in the hallway?
Was that warm breeze his breath upon my neck?
Is that his familiar scent or just my deep desire to have him here with me?

We’ll set out candles
Prepare his favorite foods
Bathe our home with love and light
Because today the children,
My child,
Returns from the grave

I left to find God
Instead I found you
Does Satan prove God?

When it took so much
to give them life,

How do you pick
Which child dies?

Rules are rules
or are they?
If 12:01 is late for curfew
is there a greater consequence for 12:06?
If I call for 12:10 does that buy me 12:15?
Negotiating strictness
Bargaining freedom
Dealing Discipline
Oh to be 14 again.

Sebastian quivered as he made his report.
Science - We did quiz. I 102 percent
History - We did read chapter. I finish first and wrote answers to questions. All correct.
English - We did grammar lesson. Adjectives. Describe words. No grading.
Sebastian hesitated, just slightly, and his father exploded.
Mathematics! Report Mathematics! Show Me!
Tears streaming. Hands trembling.
Sebastian removed the math papers from his tiny Hello Kitty backpack.
97 percent. Not perfect. Not the best in class.
The rest is unrepeatable.
Humiliation is much worse in Mandarin.

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.

Silence is corrosive.
If thoughts remain inside
they burn their way to very dark places
and start to consume my soul
I have to get them out...
Or I will lose myself to them

A rivulet penetrates the surface,
sustaining a desiccating thing.

A slanted ray
awakens a dormant seed.

A dropped morsel
nourishes a starving creature.

None is significant

Each is
A whispered hope

I see you there
In the rearview mirror of my life
Fading
As I move forward
knowing
we'll never ride
side by side
again

Now:
The EMTs respond.
A Jane Doe is found dead.
Beneath the I-90 overpass.
They lift her
Zip her into a bag,
And transport her to the morgue.
They can’t feel sad.

Today:
The few wispy strands of hair that remain
Dangle haphazardly from her scabby head
Jagged misshapen teeth protrude from dry cracked lips
betraying breath that stinks of infection and decomposition
Vermin gnaw on exposed flesh while parasites feast within.
Her eyes dim as her body putrifies.

Last Week:
Mission workers prop her up against the wobbly chain link fence
A thin blanket is wrapped around her bony shoulders and
Her blue-tarp awning is adjusted
She would be less wet and cold.
For a night.
They leave a cheese sandwich and chicken noodle soup.
The rats eat most of it.
She wouldn’t have kept it down anyway.

Last Month:
The shelter is scary and dangerous.
She couldn’t sleep without nightmares and her screaming disrupted other ‘guests’.
The shelter workers apologize and put her out at 2:19 AM.
She finds a spot between two dumpsters.
It reeks of **** but is unoccupied.
Sometime in the dark she is ***** and beaten by two crackheads.
The crime is unreported.

Last Year:
The fluorescent lights sting her eyes.
The antiseptic smell burns her nose.
The noise and chaos that surround her make her dizzy and disoriented.
She fights hard to get away but is restrained by strong hands – then leather straps.
A painful jab in her arm and then nothing.
Days or weeks later she emerges in a haze.
Kindly eyes greet her.
They stay with her.
They accompany her to the shelter.
They tell her to come back for follow-on care.
She never sees them again.

Before:
The divorce rips her heart in two.
She has nothing.
She is nothing.
Her world crumbles beneath her and she crumbles with it.
Where would she go?
What would she do?
Everything has become so wrong.

Once Upon a Time:
She was happy. Joyful.
Filled with life and hope.
He was smart, funny, successful.
Together they were magical.
Perfect.

Sometimes in the night...

A voice whispers across eternity
Murmuring words only my soul can hear
Filling my heart
Calming my fears

Then

The moon sets
The sun rises
The veil closes
And it is silent again

I search for you
in my dreams

I see the people,
The places,
and things
That surrounded us
But you are not there

It doesn’t stop me from
Running here and there
Looking frantically;
Hoping for a glimpse
Of you

I ask about you and they point to
An address that doesn’t exist
An empty hallway
An impenetrable crowd

Are they helping me
Or
Mocking me?

I press on

Because

Your perfume lingers,
so I know that you’re here
Somewhere

Smile, Dear Child, smile
Our tears will be gone -
In a while.

Dieu a appelé ton nom
Et les anges t'apportent au Ciel
Ton étoile brillera toujours
Il donne espoir aux rêveurs,
Il nous rappel de ton amour.

Requiem eternam dona ei
Et lux perpetua luceat ei
We will always, always love you,
our dear, sweet Carrie.

There he is
the loudest guy in the bar
Boasting about clandestine OPS
and battles he’d ‘prefer not to remember’,
But he does,
because he has an audience

There he was in Ramadi, Korengal,
Tikrit, Kandahar, pinned down by dozens,
no hundreds, of enemy fighters.
His best mate, was hit by shrapnel or an enemy round.
He screams for Doc
But no help comes
The barroom hero
applies a compression bandage,
but the blood continues to flow through his fingers
Minutes pass, his buddy worsens.
Doc arrives, finally.
The buddy is stabilized and loaded onto a stretcher
He’ll be on the first bird out

The battle hardened warrior continues his tale,
regaling his table with airstrikes, CQB, and
taking the battle to the enemy.

Someone asks, “What unit were you in?”
He replies proudly, “The Second Ranger Battalion.”

You set your own beer down and spin from your chair.
You make your way from your table to his.
You place a silver coin upon it,
“Second Ranger Battalion,” you say,
“Coin Check.”

The color drains from his face
Fear in his eyes and an ‘Oh ****’ expression on his face,
He stammers something about being ‘attached’
and having orders for Ranger School once.

Your icy glare tells him that he’d better
**** and **** before he is no longer able to do either.

He throws a $20 onto the table and finds his way to the door.

******* ****.

You’re stupid
All the sudden
you axe questions
about places you have went too

All the sudden
You don’t know nothin’
About places you have went too
Exasperating everything

You don’t know nothin’
About nothin’
Exasperating everything
Exspecially me.

About Nothin’
You axe questions
Exspecially me
You’re stupid.

Her cheeks golden apples
Voice a hushed whisper
She smells like coconut Coppertone and sunshine
Her cotton candy lipgloss is sticky on my lips
Tanned skin salty from the surf
Smooth and soft like a puppy’s belly
Blonde hair sun-streaked, warm
Stomachs flip-flopping with teen-crush happiness

Gotta go…
Why?
I know.
Hate it though.

So we linger
To watch the surf swallow the sun

Lemon VW Beetle
Pink and green Polo shirt seatcovers
Hippie flowers and surf shop stickers
And her Confirmation Rosary
glimmering in the fading light
She waves
“Call you later.”
The sunset is beautiful

PCH is busy this time of day
Surfers, commuters, tourists
and local kids, like us,
going our own ways
The sunset is beautiful.

Sirens pierce the twilight calm

There are conflicting reports
But
All include the words
Rollover.  Ejected.  Fatality.

Through my tears
I stare at the ocean
The sunset is beautiful

I Am The Roach

You hate me
You want me and everyone like me dead
You crush us
You poison us
You revile our existence.

If asked, you couldn’t come up with one good thing to say about me

You see me as a
filthy
disgusting
disease-carrying vermin

And maybe you’re right

However…

After the floods
And the blizzards
And he droughts
AND the pandemics

I will still be here.

Will you?

The Killer's unblinking eyes gazed,
awaiting my next move.

The victim, still warm,
lay just there.

Choking back sadness,
I looked back.

No guilt
no remorse to be found.
A pure predator.

And I learned
You can't extract sorrow
from a cat.

Thundering voice
evoking fire, demons, eternal suffering.
Eyes burning holes in our souls
chastising, rebuking, shaming.

"Enlarge belief, says the Lord our God,
or be cast into the lake of fire."

Women wept, men trembled, children sobbed in terror.

Tonight's collection would be a dandy.

Seeking power
the Warrior discovered helplessness
Ironic?

You know, the one who never turns in his work
You know, the one who challenges you at every turn
You know, the one who never seems to listen
You know the one who’s late on Monday and skips most Fridays
You know, the one who aces every test
You know, the one who reminds you…

Of you.

It’s that time of life when….

Your friends’ deaths didn’t come too soon
Your body is no longer as reliable as it was
Your dog dies and you wonder if it’s fair to adopt another
You smile at the first timers asking for senior discounts
You concern yourself far more with comfort than fashion
Words like cantankerous and curmudgeon fit much more snugly
Events in your lifetime appear with increasing frequency on the History Channel
Popular culture is completely unrelatable
All of the food choices you make contain the words “Low” and “Reduced”
Your energy is more potential than kinetic
Teenagers refer to your friends as Nana and Grandpa
Actuarial tables are not your friends
Your investments transition from growth to preservation
Your bucket list takes on a genuine sense of urgency
Because every experience may be the last

These words are a sock, soft and warm from the dryer
butterknife
palpable
lullabye
maroon

These words are bits of glass, attacking my ears:
Yaw
Ketch
Blurt
Epizeuxis
Jactation and
Mauve

These words are brass-knuckled fists to the face
Mogadishu
Rwanda
Desert One
My Lai
And
Nine One One

These words are a sneaky cat, slithering here and there
Mystery
Secretive
Lurking
Sly
Shadowy

These words are unknown to everyone but me. Private words for private thoughts.
Uiyak
Jackassdom
Nothingofanyvalue

To the tune of 'The Dreidl Song"
(Can't leave out my Jewish Friends)

Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
You’re made out of C-4
Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
I put you out once more

I put in place a Claymore
For our security
And when I squeeze the clacker
Ball bearings they will see

Oh, Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
You make a big kaboom
Claymore, Claymore, Claymore,
You send them to their doom.

On our little Claymore,
it says ‘Front Toward Enemy’
And when they pull the tripwire
Their Paradise they'll see!!

Oh, Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
You’re made out of C-4
Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
I put you out once more.

Someone recently wrote that ‘Love Has No Color’
I disagree:

Love is the deep blue of the ocean
It is the pink of my dog’s tongue
Love is the orchid colors of my daughter’s bedroom
And the blacks my son wears to theater

Love is mocha, pale, ebony, and tan
It is emerald, sapphire, chestnut, and jade
Love is honey and straw, pitch and caramel

Love is cherry blossom walks
It’s painted deserts
It’s shimmering skyscrapers
And the intense greens of triple canopy jungles

Love is the color of your first car
And your girlfriend’s prom dress

Love is stained glass
Bright green Christmas trees
And the Easter dresses
Of the church that you call home

Love is your alma mater’s jerseys
And NOT your rival’s
It’s shimmering fireworks with friends
And the long rays of the sun from a folding chair in the sand

Love is not without color
Love IS colors

Love... is colors

The 8 Days of Hanukkah

On the first day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - A Torah portion that I can't read.

On the second day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - Two loaded bagels and a Torah portion that I can't read.

On the third day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - Three spinning dreidls, two loaded bagels, and a Torah portion that I can't read.

On the fourth day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - Four Shabbos goyim, three spinning dreidls, two loaded bagels, and a Torah portion that I can't read.

On the fifth day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - FIVE Maccabeats, four Shabbos goyim, three spinning dreidls, two loaded bagels, and a Torah portion that I can't read.

On the sixth day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - Six mohels brissing, FIVE Maccabeats, four Shabbos goyim, three spinning dreidls, two loaded bagels, and a Torah portion that I can't read.

On the seventh day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - Seven Jews a-kvetching, six mohels brissing, FIVE Maccabeats, four Shabbos goyim, three spinning dreidls, two loaded bagels, and a Torah portion that I can't read.

On the eighth day of Hanukkah, my rabbi gave to me - 8 burning candles, seven Jews a-kvetching, six mohels brissing, FIVE Maccabeats, four Shabbos goyim, three spinning dreidls, two loaded bagels, and a Torah portion that I can't read.....

My death will be like rain
It will seem unpleasant for a moment
Then
You will see how much nicer the world is
And you'll be happy

Staring, Glaring, Unblinking
They are familiar and terrifying

A lost love scratching her way
back to material existence...

A fallen friend seeking etherial
companionship...

A family member longing
For the comforts of home...

An ancient foe
Exacting revenge with nightly torment...

A wispy passerby
Simply attracted to the lamp's glow...

Or is it Death peeking in
Checking on the doneness of this life.

Your skin is so smooth.
My fingers trace your gentle curves.
Just the right amount of firm and supple.
I bring you close – you smell of summer, of sunshine.
I smile

The blade of the knife catches the sun as it pierces your skin
I pull downward
Hard
The skin rips.
Wetness drips
From your exposed flesh.

I see what I have done.
I can’t stop myself.
I cut again
Again
and AGAIN.

I tear you apart.
Ignoring the voices of fairness and reason
That might have – should have – stopped me.

My children’s eyes fill with horror as they witness the frenzy.
They plead, “No, Daddy, Stop!”
I turn to them
Dripping knife in hand
“Do you want some of this?”

They shake their heads and back away.

Good.

This last orange is mine.